Sasori
by Crimsom-Wyvern
Summary: AU - "A few tweaks here, a few snips there. Voila. You have the end of the world." Taylor will always be scary. It's just who she is. This time around, she just happens to have a very, very large family. Co-written with Alvor the Warhawk.
1. Prologue

**AN: Okay, so, this is a bit awkward. It's been quite some time since I've last posted something on my account. Real life got complicated real fast, and I just couldn't find myself able to finish any projects I started.**

 **But I think I finally managed to push through that with some help from my newest friend and co-writer, Alvor.**

 **Alvor: I'm a depressed autist. Good luck with waiting for those updates.**

 **Wyvern: Be happy, dammit!**

 **Alvor: We just turned a teenage girl into a biological weapons factory. But, sure. Taylor is still best girl. Come at me bro.**  
 **  
Wyvern: No argument from me there. So with no further ado, Wyvern and Alvor present to you "Sasori"!**

[Prologue]

Triggers are a bitch.

This is a fact of life; and one of the few universal truths of Capes

That a sequence of events leading up to a disastrous conclusion is enough to push a normal person over the edge and just break them.

Taylor wasn't stupid, she, logically, understood what that meant. But, perspective, well, that adds a whole other kind of understanding. When her mother died, having been on the phone with her when she crashed, Taylor thought she knew what that was like. Being so consumed with guilt and hatred and self loathing that it bends you in half as your stomach physically cramps and you want to scream or cry or vomit.

But, with time, even the crippling agony she felt faded. The wound scarred over. And yeah, it sucked, majorily, all the time. It was a grinding thing, though. Not quite the sharp, vicious thing kind of pain.

And dealing with all of that Taylor thought she knew what kind of hell could cause someone to trigger.

Obviously, there is a God and Murphy is his name.

Because when she came back from camp, heading back into school after finally managing to get her emotions under control, she had no way of knowing what she was about to walk into.

Her own personal hell.

She could still remember the first day back, the excitement of starting another year combined with the happiness of seeing her best friend again after months apart. Looking back at it, Taylor should have realized that something was wrong. This was Brockton Bay, after all. The city was ruled by gangs of drug dealers and nazis. And the only reason the school weren't active warzones was because the PRT tended to hand out kill orders like candy when Capes started blowing up kids.

At first Emma ignored her, acted as if she didn't exist. She had started hanging out with other girls like Sophia and then Madison; changing overnight into a completely different person. Obviously, she didn't want to think Emma had become a psychopathic bitch who revelled in the misery of others. So Taylor shut up and tried to give her some space. Obviously her best friend needed to cool off, or she'd screwed up and pissed Emma off somehow. It's not like Taylor was the most socially active girl in the world to begin with. And, maybe, Taylor could make a new friend or two. Branch out a tiny bit.

And that was when the torment began.

The kind girl she knew was gone, dead, as far as she was concerned.

What was left was a shallow thing. Almost a carraricature, really. Over the last year and a half Emma had used every single secret, ever single vulnerability, and every single hope she'd ever had, ever confessed to her. She'd used them to tear into her. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.

Oh, Emma had no desire to beat Taylor. That was more Hess' area of expertise.

Madison was cutesy and mocking and sickly sweet. And her pranks were like that. Glue on her chair, juice in her backpack, and things like that. Petty bullshit. Sophia Hess, on the other hand, was a mad dog. A sadist, pure and simple. Without Emma painting a target on her back Hess wouldn't have done much, probably only knocked her around a bit and then gone about her day.

Instead….Instead Emma had gone so far as to tell Hess to take her Mother's flute and defile it. When it was returned to her, caked in filth and excrement, that was the day Taylor gave up on ever recovering her old friend. There was just no line the trio was unwilling to cross and Emma proved it that day.

Obviously, things escalated further when Taylor almost broke down. The terrible trio went from petty taunting and stealing her things to physically assaulting her in the hallways and destroying her homework in order to get her into trouble with the teachers, who plain didn't care about her side of the story. Of course, this was Winslow, there were enough active drug dealers that 'minor' bullying didn't really rate.

She learned the hard way when she first went to the teachers for help. Certainly they had seen just how rotten the girls were? But her hopes had been dashed entirely when they either pretended not to notice, or said she had no way to prove it. Gladly, the sick creep, even went so far as to get a bit too handsy for Taylor's blood. Not that she thought he was a paedophile. Just a loser who wanted to be a cool kid, even though he was pushing forty. In the end Hess never got in trouble and Taylor learned quickly that fighting back only meant she'd catch detention. It felt like the universe was conspiring to take away everything she loved.

Yet Taylor was unwilling to let them break her. To let them have that satisfaction.

And then they'd shoved her into a locker filled with used tampons and worse and left her there. While laughing like a pack of psychopaths.

There were at least fifty kids in the hallway who saw what happened. Two or three teachers, probably. If nothing else they would have heard the raucous laughter of the Trio and their hanger ons. Of course, all of the freaks ignored her. Kept their heads down. Did the smart thing. Never mind the fact that they were witnesses to attempted murder.

It wasn't until the end of the day that a janitor let her out.

[Brockton Bay - Central Hospital]

Taylor lay in a bed, listening to the rhythmic beeping of the monitors.

Her mother was dead.

Her father spent months piecing himself back together from his bout of depression. She didn't blame him. God knows she'd had to do the same. The trio had waged a crusade against her, doing whatever they felt would hurt her the most. Whatever they could get away with and then some.

But she had persevered, unwilling to let them win.

Not when her grades started slipping.

Not when her notebooks mysteriously vanished.

Not when her belongings were ruined and covered in food stains.

Not when she came back home with bruises from 'tripping' so much on the hallways.

Or even after what happened to her mother's flute.

She listened to the rhythmic beeping of the monitors.

The Locker broke her.

The darkness, her screams, the putrid smell that smothered her entire existence. Just thinking about it sent shivers through her entire body, made her want to break into sobs again and again until there was nothing left.

It had been a week already but Taylor felt no closer to recovering.

Her body might have healed, even if her nails were still regrowing and the insect bites were still scabbed over. In that box, her mind had shut down. She'd become a screaming, feral thing. So much so she'd suffered a psychotic break.

A part of her, no matter how small, died inside that metal coffin.

"...and that seems to be it, Mr Hebert."

"Please, call me Daniel, doctor."

"Very good then. Your daughter's room is right up here, so I'll let you head on in."

Taylor was happy, she supposed, that her father had been spending so much time with her for the last week.

It was with a frustrated sigh that she turned over in her bed. Trying to focus on the here and now, and wasn't morphine withdrawal just a bitch, had been a task for the last few days.

There was a knock on the door.

It was an empty courtesy, Taylor wasn't really up for leaving her bed, but she appreciated it nonetheless. It even got a half strangled smile out of her. No matter what, he'd always given her privacy and respect. A lot more than most kids got, Brockton Bay or not.

"Hey kiddo, you awake?"

Turning over, Taylor looked up at her father. She let a slightly crooked grin peer up at him.

"Yeah dad. I'm up. My mouth feels like hell though. How long was I out?"

"About fourteen hours this time. So not too long."

Taylor snorted. "I still feel tired."

"You've been through a lot. Your body is trying to heal itself."

Taylor stared at her lap. "Yeah. I guess it is."

She could hear her dad's thoughts boiling over.

"Go ahead, dad, you can ask me a few questions. I think I'm….together enough to handle it." She took a deep breath. Okay, so maybe she wasn't quite as ready as she wanted to believe, but she didn't want to avoid it anymore.

Her father didn't deserve the silent treatment.

Sighing, he sat down, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I know….I know I haven't been there. Not completely and not for a long time. I've been trying for so long to deal with Annette's death that I wasn't the best parent. I know I missed out on a lot, that I left you all alone to deal. All I can say is that I'm sorry and that from now on I want you to know that I'm here for you. And, whatever else happens, I've already pulled you out of Winslow."

Taylor started. Out of everything her father could have said, she did not expect that.

She honestly didn't know what to feel.

Relief, at not having to deal with the Trio anymore.

A bit of shame that the Trio, in the end, did win.

Maybe some curiosity as to how her dad managed to cross so much red tape in a few days, and confusion as to how she would get an education now.

"Are...are you sure about that, dad?" She hazarded, getting an incredulous look from him. "I mean...Winslow was the only school near home, the only one I could go to anyway."

She trailed off.

Danny shuffled a bit. "I don't want to seem like I'm trying to control you. Not after all that's happened. But I'm not comfortable with you going back there. I'm sure Emma will understand. It's just, I love you, and….After Annette, you're my whole world Taylor. I know I'm being selfish, but I'm afraid."

Taylor choked on air. That her dad would admit to being afraid meant he was really, really scared for her. It was touching. But, then, Taylor realized something. She...she had completely forgotten to tell her dad about Emma. As far as he knew, they were still childhood friends who adored each other like sisters. Not that the daughter of his best friend had been torturing his own for over a year now.

"Kiddo?"

Shit. He noticed it.

Guess today was just gonna be one of those days.

"I, well, Emma is one of the people who put me there."

She stared at her lap, eyes drilling through to the cold linoleum beneath. She didn't need to look to know her father was shocked.

But surprise eventually gave way to anger. God, she could feel it radiate off him like an aura those characters from cheesy saturday morning cartoons have. She felt like saying anything else would prompt Mt Danny to erupt.

Except there was no stopping it this time.

"What do you mean Emma was one of the people who put you here."

Taking a deep breath, Taylor thanked God he was only hissing mad. It would probably be best to be quick with it. Rip the bandage off as it were. Jerking him around got him to yell. But, if you were straight with him, Daniel Hebert was surprisingly reasonable for such a bullheaded man.

"Emma Barnes. Madison Clements. Sophia Hess. Those are the girls who did this to me. And, for about the last year and a half, they've been bullying me."

A strange choking sound came from Danny. Surprised, Taylor looked back up at her father.

It only took a second for guilt to well up.

He was shamefaced, looking almost physically ill.

"Taylor, I'm so, so sorry. Please, please, please, Little Owl, please forgive me."

Worried, she rushed to console her father. "Dad, no, it's fine. I dealt with it myself. Until now I could handle it. I didn't want to burden you."

Moving carefully, Danny gently reached over and hugged Taylor as tightly as he dared.

"You shouldn't have had to deal with it. I fucked up. I'm your father, I should have been there. If….if I had known…."

Taylor couldn't help it, she felt tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. All the stress from having to recount her torment building up and up. She was afraid to speak, she was that close to devolving into a babbling mess. So, she did the only thing she could.

She hugged him back with as much force as she could muster and let the tears run free.

This time it was different, however.

She felt light, as if a great burden had been taken from her shoulders. A step towards at least processing everything she had been through.

After holding back from telling him for so long, having nobody who would take her side, Taylor finally could confess to the anger, sadness and fear that had plagued her for over a year.

It was a catharsis.

"Thank you daddy. I'm so, so sorry."

"Shh, it's ok Little Owl, it's ok. It's gonna be all ok."

Taylor nodded, smiling through the tears. And for that single moment, all was right in the world.

[Hebert Household - Later that week]

With a sigh, Taylor popped her shoulders. It'd been a week since she'd gotten out of the hospital and since then she'd been home, for the most part.

The first few days since she returned from the hospital had been somewhat tense. Apparently her father had yet to finalize the process of pulling her out of Winslow, which required her to go with him to settle things with Director Blackwell.

Both father and daughter taken turns giving her a verbal thrashing and watch as the woman jumped between various shades of white, red, blue, and green. An all around fun family activity.

The best part was when her dad threatened to have the Dockworkers Union boycott Winslow altogether.

By that point, Blackwell had agreed to let her leave school unopposed. She may have been a raging bitch and terrible at her job, but Blackwell was very, very good at keeping said job. Despite, you know, tacitly sanctioning a campaign of torture and abuse.

Then they'd gone out to eat, to celebrate her recovery and their victory over the school, and Fugly Bob's greasy, juicy hamburgers had been the most amazing thing she'd eaten in years. She had forgotten how good it felt to have a laugh and Just talk with her dad without anything dragging the two of them down.

They may have gone through some rough patches, but Taylor could say with complete honesty that this was the closest she felt to her father in a very long time.

Now, three days after being discharged, Taylor was just about finished with brushing her teeth, she spat out her tooth paste and washed her mouth out when something got caught in her throat. She coughed and choked several times before spitting out a small black clump of something. It was sticky, it was slimy. And worst of all, it was moving.

As the clump started to twitch and wriggle, Taylor almost screamed. A small, horsefly like insect squirmed on the sink, pulling itself upright. The little critter even did a little dance as it shook off the last bits of the vomitus.

At that point, Taylor did what any teenager girl would have.

She screamed.

Loudly.

"Oh god, I'm gonna be sick." She fought the urge to vomit. There was no way in hell there had been any insects in the lasagna, she'd cooked it herself, and there was no way in hell she'd have missed a bug.

Darkness

Screams

Squirming bugs crawling all over her.

She began to hyperventilate, but held on the sink for support as she fought off the memories. Like hell she was gonna let the Locker have any hold over her. Not after she finally escaped Winslow. Dante reached Paradise. Beatrix was granted absolution. And this Hell would not hold her spirit. Not now. Not ever.

She calmed down after a few moments, realizing that it wasn't so much the fact she spat up a bug that freaked her out but that she spat up a bug unexpectedly.

It was bizarre. Like, if she had intended to vomit up the far too still insect, for some reason just sitting there, almost watching her, it would have been all right. Obviously, any time a human is puking up bugs, that's an issue. Right?

Overcome with the perverse desire to make contact with the thing that came out of her body she tentatively reached out and touched it; jumping back the second her finger made contact with the fly.

It didn't move. She blinked in confusion.

Ordinary bugs, especially flies, didn't stick around when you tried to poke at them. They considered any and all sudden movements in their direction as threats and moved out of the way.

She touched it again.

Yup, no movement at all.

Slowly, she moved her hand next to it. Even with her right next to the thing it still didn't so much as twitch.

'Well, I wonder if it will move?'

With a squeak of surprise, Taylor held her hand still as the bug made its way up the side of her hand to sit in her right palm.

"What the hell. Did….did I do that?"

Of course, with Danny already in bed and Taylor being the only other person in the house there was no response. She looked at her hand, utterly bewildered by her new passenger.

"No way. this is just my mind playing tricks on me."

Taylor reached over with her left hand and pinched her right arm.

'Yup. It's still there. Um. Well. Maybe it'll go away in a moment or two.'

The bug promptly crawled back onto the sink.

'Fuck.'

There were not many explanations as to why a fly was obeying her.

Either she had just met the most intelligent fly in the world, who was now purposefully messing around with her. Which, considering her luck, might be an actual possibility. Or she could somehow control it. But there was no...oh...Oh….OH

She had triggered.

She had triggered.

Oh no...

She triggered!

Slowly, she slid down the wall. Ending up blinking up at the sink from the floor.

"Hey little guy, come here."

Taylor held out her hand and, with a little hop to get going, the fly took to the air before alighting upon her outstretched hand. Bringing her hand up close to her face she took the time to actually examine the little critter.

Before, she had referred to the bug as a fly. It was technically still true, although she was sure that no fly breed should have a second pair of wings. It was also much larger than any fly she had ever seen.

Paying closer attention to it, she also noticed it wasn't quite as fat as a normal house fly. Besides being thinner and longer, its head was also closer to a mosquito hawk's head than anything else.

Its abdomen, on the other hand, was closer to the ones she had studied in biology class, although with a clearly distinct red lie that ran down the middle. In short, this was the weirdest bug she had ever seen, but somehow, she felt like she already knew everything there was to it.

"Please turn around."

The little bug did so.

This...was going to take some getting used to.

"Where did you come from?" Taylor wasn't sure what she could actually get the bug to do. And, well, the thought that it would try to crawl back inside her made her shiver.

Taylor sighed, this was not how she expected her day to go. And to be honest, she still felt like this was all some sort of hallucination or dream that she would snap out of given time. She went back to her room and took a seat at the edge of the bed, still staring at her hand and the small tagalong.

Now that she mostly calmed down. Reality came calling and this time there was no shock or audacity to protect her from it.

She was a cape.

She, Taylor Hebert, had superpowers!

And...she wasn't sure that was a good thing. But, for now, she needed to find out just what exactly she could do. Luckily, she just happened to have the perfect volunteer to help her find out.

Up

The little fly buzzed lightly as it lift off the palm of her hand.

Spin

It did a small loop, like one of those airplanes people hired to do shows.

Down

And back to her hand it fell.

Taylor whistled softly.

"Well. I do suppose this makes me, what, a Master? 'Sigh'. Well I suppose I should be thankful I can't actually do anything to people. Of course, I don't know that. But, seeing how I'm controlling a bug, that's probably the limit of my control. I'll need to test it later, just to be sure."

The next thing she needed to test was her range. Just how far could she control bugs without faltering. Was her control something like a signal that got weaker with distance ? Or was it limited by number of bugs she could control.

Because she really wouldn't be able to do anything with those powers if all she could do with it was control a dozen flies.

Thinking about it, she noticed that, now that she was focusing on it, there was a small tingling on the edge of her consciousness. It was like having a buzzing in your ear, you knew there was a pressure of sorts but couldn't do much to alleviate it.

So, stretching out with mental muscles she didn't know she had, Taylor made contact with the insects mind. At first, it was like trying to see through a drinking straw, but, after a moderately unpleasant squeezing sensation her world shifted.

She saw herself.

Her room.

She saw everything at once.

'Wow, this is so weird.' Turning to the side, she noticed there weren't any changes, only a shift in what direction she...no...it was facing.

'Now, how do I pilot this thing." She moved its legs a bit, providing strange sensations her own had never felt. She could tell that it was normal for the little bug though, its mind acting as buffer of sorts; almost like a manual.

'Okay, that's enough test. Command center, we are going for a ride.'

Taylor gave her new wings an experimental flap and was rewarded by the feeling of wind running down her back and across hundreds of tiny hairs. Alright, she could do it.

With a mental hurrah, Taylor threw her new bug-body off her human hand, more than ready to see why everyone always thought flying was so much fun.

'Taylor the Fly, launching!'

[Later that day]

Taylor winced in pain.

Maybe she should have planned her first flight a bit better. Hitting the wall facefirst a couple dozen times was far from the success she envisioned eve if it wasn't quite the most stupid thing she had tried to do. That was trying to do a loop and losing her balance, only to end dangerously close to falling into her trash bin. Now that was something she was glad to have avoided.

Although she could still feel the migraines.

Her dad had already left for work and since Taylor managed to finish her school work as well as the chores, she decided to step outside for a bit in order to test her control over the little fly she had hacked out earlier, now branded Taylor Two or T2 for convenience. It would do her a lot of good to test out her flight without anything to run headfirst into.

Her plan was met with relative success.

While she could now move around freely with T2's body, it only took a few moments of happy buzzing in the somewhat chilly wind for a bird to promptly snap her up for a snack. A few panicked moments later and she was back in her own body, groaning in pain as she recalled being eaten. Once the sensation of being swallowed had passed, the memory of being enclosed in a dark, crushing place rushed in.

It was, to her pride, only a few minutes later when she had stopped vomiting. And, thankfully, she hadn't even screamed once.

Still, due to Taylor Two's untimely demise, she was left without a volunteer to practice her new powers on, which lead to her current conundrum.

Trying to find more bugs to control.

Obviously, she was a Master. That, or just insane. But that didn't really bear thinking on.

But, no matter how many species or how hard she tried, she couldn't connect with any insects she saw.

She could still feel the same, for lack of a better term, mental pressure inside herself. But it just wasn't capable of clicking with any of the other bugs. She'd even made the effort to try as many different species, ranging from ants to termites to mosquitos, as she could find. It didn't seem to matter if they were true insects or not, as even the few spiders she could find seemed to be on the right frequency.

They just seemed to be missing some key component.

"I miss Taylor Two."

It was then her stomach acted up for a moment, what felt like a small amount of bile rose up in her throat, and, after a moment's confusion, she spat out a small gob of a familiar-looking blackened saliva. Taylor groaned in exasperation. Was that going to happen every time she had to use her powers or was it just a quirk of her seemingly rebellious body? At this point it could be either.

Still, it was as good a time as any to see if she was right about her powers so she gave the mass of black slime a once over and was relieved to find another bug wriggling about inside it.

"Oh. I make the bugs."

Taylor promptly passed out.

Two hours later, the dark-haired girl groggily sat up and rubbed her slightly bruised head, further aggravated from her earlier bout of headbutting walls. She winced but noticed that her newly little friend was still just sitting there. Thankfully non-eaten.

Good news was, Taylor Two was back. And it allowed her to find out another facet of her own powers, that she could memorize and compare bugs that she saw. For now she could tell a glance how their body proportions differed as well as their approximate age and some minor details regarding species. It was the only aspect of her powers that worked on normal critters so far. She wondered if that part of her powers could be used to compare differences between her own critters, though.

She felt bile rising up her throat.

'Oh shit! Abort! Abort! Abort!'

She sighed in relief when no more bugs came out. After a few moments she felt an extremely slight churning in the area around her stomach, but more a bit behind and to the left.

Understandably distressed, Taylor took a few moments to calm herself. Gingerly, she reached out and brushed her new fly's mind. It felt almost identical to Taylor Two. Slipping fully into the insect's body, after checking and making sure no birds were nearby, she noticed the body actually felt familiar.

It didn't feel awkward like she expected. She didn't feel any changes in mass or body proportions. It was for intents, a replica of Taylor Two. Even the dispersion of hairs seemed identical. And wasn't that an odd thing to notice?

'Okay, let's do this right this time around.'

She jumped back to her human body and scooped T2 into her hands before running back inside. She didn't need anymore birds swallowing her up, thank you very much.

"I need to wash my mouth out." She concluded. "Also, That was dangerous."

What if she had died with T2 when that bird swallowed them?

At the time, she was so freaked out by the whole 'getting eaten' thing that she completely ignored the implications. That was sheer dumb luck and Taylor felt like banging her head against the wall out of frustration.

She couldn't afford to make mistakes like that before knowing exactly how her powers worked. Experimenting in broad daylight, where anyone could see, was a bad idea. Scratch that, it was a horrible idea as proven by how she failed to notice a freaking bird of all things.

'Guess I can't really postpone this.' Taylor sighed. She really was hoping to avoid looking inside her own body the moment she spat out T2.

She tried to control normal bugs, but her control seemed fine tuned to only the ones she spat out.

Which meant that there could be more of them.

Taylor took a deep breath and closed her eyes, stretching her senses outwards. She could feel T2 on top of the coffee table as well as a few more flies on the wall, but they were not what she was looking for.

Instead she focused on the familiar mental pressure, the little buzzing inside her mind. It was like trying to listen for her own heartbeat, remaining completely silent as she search for the signs of life.

If she had anymore roommates, it was about time they woke up.

And then she felt it.

A slow, steady beating. Almost rhythmic. Almost like a second heart beat, in fact.

But not quite. It was….primitive. That's the impression she got. Slowly moving her hands, she stopped about two thirds of the way down her back. It seemed like her left lung had….changed. Become something alive in its own right.

Taylor found this odd. She hardly did anything that could be considered athletic, but, even then, she'd never felt short of breath. If her lung had changed, surely it would have been more noticeable.

Frowning, she ignored the fact her own body was no longer quite her own for the moment.

Instead, she focused on the sensations with her and pushed.

The moment she made contact with what was within her, everything shifted.

No longer did she see or hear or smell or touch as a woman, or, indeed, anything that could be said to be strictly alive.

Instead, it was as if she was swimming in a vast sea made up of thousands upon thousands of shades of colors, all pressing in on her in such a way that she more felt the idea of 'red' or could smell something that seemed to be 'strength'. There was also a faint pulse, almost like a vibration that echoed through the liquid. It wasn't painful or loud, Taylor doubted she could even accurately recognize noise in her current state. Frankly, it should have been extremely disconcerting. Instead, everything made a strange, swirling sense. Oh, it was a disorganized mess, but the moment she started to experience each sensation, each shade or sound or taste, they became ever so slightly more familiar.

And so, for an unknown period of time she simply drifted in this sea, everything around her slowly arranging itself into subtle patterns.

After what could have either been hours or minutes of this she realized she had each and every shade was, in fact, blended together with at least a few others. And, reaching out, even though she had no hands, she touched one of those clusters.

Information flashed through her mind's eyes. A thousand, thousand bits of information, but, in the end, they formed what she realized was T2. Now that she could actually perceive the little bugs in totality, she understood, in a primal, visceral way, that it was actually a mishmash of twenty or so different insects.

More than a few were rather unpleasant things, including a tapeworm, somehow.

The shock was muted, when it came, that, perhaps, these were all the various species inside the Locker when she triggered.

"Yes, that seems likely." Her voice echoed, distorting the ocean around her with its passage.

Something happened then, a sharp sensation made her panic and brought her back to her body.

As she awoke she realized three things.

One, she'd only been gone for, maybe, ten minutes.

Two, a mosquito had just flown into her mouth.

Three. She now understood, down to the most exact details, how to replicate a female mosquito, of at least one variety. Though, if she focused, Taylor felt that there was a little bit more just waiting outside her grasp.

That if, somehow, she had intended to….consume the bug, that it would have held more information than just it's current, expressed genes.

So, now that she had just stretched out her shoulders, something occurred to her.

"I gain information by eating living things. Oh god. I'm Nilbog."

Taylor began to hyperventilate.

The PRT wouldn't even hesitate to cage her. Being a Master was already bad enough, but adding biotinker powers was about as good as a kill order. She knew from PHO that the local Director was supposedly an Ellisburg survivor and infamous for her dislike of Capes. If she found out…

"Oh god. Oh god. I….I can't tell anyone. No one can know." She held onto the couch to avoid another fainting spell, but by then her mind had already began to conjure images of what would happen to her if anyone found out what she could do.

Armsmaster cutting her down. Miss Militia blowing her head off. Any one of the Triumvirate squishing her from low orbit.

"Splat. Bug on a windshield. They could probably just take the house out. Oh god. Daddy."

She was hyperventilating again.

Panic bubbled up sour and harsh in her gut. She couldn't help it. In a blind stumble she rushed for the kitchen sink as she began to retch.

In a wave, black and purple bile rushed out of her mouth. It took her nearly ten seconds to realize that, amongst the goop, there were hundreds if not thousands of wriggling forms. Once she did, Taylor desperately tried to get herself under control. Unleashing a swarm now would hardly help her.

After another moment, with only a few more dry heaves, she managed to get herself under control. Mostly.

The entire swarm, which Taylor could see was composed of dozens of different types of insects, each a mish mash of various species, buzzed around her. Already they'd scoured the kitchen of any other living thing.

She knew this, because she had felt as they'd ripped a spider from its web, shredding it into pieces, and how they'd swarmed a number of flies. Even now, she could, somehow, feel a mouse cowering in a wall. Hiding from the enraged swarm that at that very moment sought to defend its mistress from anything that might threaten her.

Realizing that her body must have reacted to the stress and fear, Taylor immediately clamped down on the existential terror. Her body was some kind of hive, a factory of creepy crawlies that now skittered all over the house.

'So many from just one bout of vomiting….'

There must have been thousands. And she could feel them all. Focusing on individuals was nearly impossible, only T2 stood out, and, even then, was barely noticeable.

But the whole, the entirety of the mass of life now moving about the kitchen, it had a mood. It wasn't a true hive mind. Even this many insects didn't have the raw processing power for even the most basic of brains. Yet, there was still a collective sense of 'Defend-protect Mother-Hive'.

Taylor was scared. Not the angry panic of before. She was cold in terror. Her power included a hive mind.

Another power with unfortunate connections to villains and monster, she noted.

Finally back in relative control of herself, Taylor sat down and, with an act of sheer willpower, pushed her swarm to calm down as well. The insects, quite literally, flew to the nearest surface, including her own body, and stopped moving.

Even as she was covered in silent insects from head to toe.

Even with the black-purple vomit drying on the corners of her mouth.

Her brain just couldn't process everything. Not the enormity of how terrifying her powers were to the average human. Never mind the capes who'd fought off monsters like the SH9 before.

Afterall, even without the big threats, like the endbringers, there were still the Quarantine Zones.

Nine of them.

Reaching out to the Swarm, Taylor realized, even as the clawing, gnawing terror burned cold inside her, that she had to control them. If they went out of control, at best, her dad would be in danger of losing his house and his job.

It was a figurative bucket of cold water on her anger and fear.

After everything that had happened, there was no way she would let her powers be what ruined her father's as well as her own. So she reached out, much like she had done before with T2, and linked with the swarm.

It was much harder than before, but she grit her teeth and gave the critters the harshest mental pull she could.

It was a herculean ordeal, but it was enough.

With a mental flex, the swarm quickly stopped, their eyes glued on her as if expecting orders. Taylor took a moment to catch her breath before moving the swarm outside, clustering then underneath the back steps behind the rear door.

They had orders to remain out of sight, defend themselves only if attacked, and not to seek out anything else living.

Mentally, she reviewed the strains she had seen. None of them should be capable of reproduction. Their genetic codes would have been….horrific. In fact, they likely wouldn't be able to live for very long, considering that their bodies simply wouldn't work that well. Still, for safety's sake, she amended her instructions to include a standing order not to reproduce without explicit directions.

For now, this was enough. Taylor realized, before she did anything else, she needed to speak with her father. If nothing else, the nature of her powers meant he was involved. No matter how much the thought galled her.

So, as she trudged towards the bathroom, intending to brush her teeth and then scrub herself under a very hot shower, she thought about how she would break it to him.

If she hadn't been emotionally drained, Taylor would have cried.

"This is gonna really, really suck."


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: You guys thought it would take long? Bet you didn't expect this one to come so soon! It is with great satisfaction that I proudly present to you the second part of "Sasori", brought to you by Wyvern and Alvor the Warhawk!**

 **Alvor: Quick warning guys and girls and attack helicopters, I'm a man of extremes. I'm as much a sucker for romance and emotional bonding as things that would get be banned from the internet. For this chapter, I've ended up writing far too much mushy stuff. And exposition. But even that was mushy too. So I'm the faggot, not the dude who has a white dragon for a profile picture.**

 **Wyvern: Not all of us can have an edgy profile name such as "Warhawk". Still, reviews are welcome, as are any comments you might have on our writing style and the plot as long as they are constructive.**

 **Alvor: Also, Wyvern is a big wanker. And Taylor is my waifu, because I say so.**

 **Wyvern: Oh you wound me so. How can I keep on living…(heavy sarcasm).**

 **Alvor: Gods above and below know, either way, on with the show!**

Chapter 1: Hero Creation Kit!

Taylor wolfed down another sandwich.

She'd called her dad, told him that she needed to speak to him when her got off work, and to hurry straight home. Of course, he'd been worried. Thought that there had been an emergency of some kind. Fortunately, Taylor had been able to talk him down and convince him that while it was very, very important, it wasn't an emergency.

So things could be much, much worse.

She'd taken that shower, brushed her teeth twice, and then come down stairs. Pretty straightforward. Nothing too strenuous. Then, she'd noticed her stomach was cramping. And she was hungry.

Under normal circumstances, she could put it away with the best of them.

However, in the two hour wait for her father she'd gone through what was left of the lasagna, three sandwiches ranging from ham to PBJ to a BLT she'd popped in the toaster oven, and an entire bag of BBQ flavored potato chips.

Who knew spawning a horde of mutant insects would work up such an appetite?

As she threw away her trash, and started eyeing the fridge again, Taylor heard her dad's truck pull up the driveway. Taking a deep breath, she brushed a few crumbs off her shirt and went through her plan one last time.

'Ok. Dad's not gonna be happy. But I've gotta make sure he understands why this is so important. And hopefully not scare him too much.'

Turning around she fixed two cups of coffee, both black, just how her dad liked it.

After hearing a key jingle in the door lock, it always took a bit of work to get it open, and the squeaky step let out a bit of noise she heard her dad call out. "Hey, Taylor, I'm home."

"In the kitchen Dad!"

As he came in, Danny walked over to Taylor and gave her a tight hug and kissed her on the head. "Hey kiddo. So, you said you needed to talk to me about something important?"

Hearing the worry in her dad's voice made her feel a bit guilty. She didn't mean to make him worry after everything they went through earlier that week, but needs must. The earlier she could tell him about her trigger and new powers, the better. Never mind the fact that it would be massive abuse of his trust. Not just that she had powers, but that she'd have to go around behind his back to be a hero. She couldn't keep all of this a secret from him, not when she could keel over any moment now and spit out a swarm again.

Speaking of swarms. Taylor could feel her's picking up her nervousness. Knowing it would be best to get it over with she took a sip of her coffee and began speaking, building up as much courage as she could. This was it, no time for second guessing.

"Yeah, dad. It's, uh, it's pretty important. I triggered during….during the Incident." She winced. Even after everything that had just happened. Just talking about it still hurt a bit.

Danny's eyes bugged out, but he continued drinking from the cup of coffee Taylor had given him right after they'd stepped apart.

After a minute or so, he sat his now empty cup down. "Ok. I suppose that's not-" He grimaced. "Unreasonable. Considering what you went through." She could tell he was forcing himself not to explode into a thousand and one questions at the top of his voice.

She really appreciated it, too. The last thing she wanted was to lose her nerve now that the cat was already out of the bag.

"Yeah. I, um" Her mind stuttered for a bit, lost as to how to continue. "Do you want another cup?"

Fortunately he got the cue and took a deep steadying breath, pinching the bridge of his nose to stop what he could feel was the start of a migraine. It wouldn't really help much but it was enough to keep him focused on the present; rather than letting the fact his daughter was parahuman cause him to clam up.

"Sure, Taylor." He smiled at her reassuringly. "I know this can't be easy for you. So take your time. Do what you think is best."

Having his permission, Taylor figured it would be a bit crazy sounding if she tried to explain to him that she could vomit up and control mutant bugs. Even for a cape. So she called the swarm into the room.

"Everyone, come on inside. Umm…Form up around me."

Hearing his daughter speak, Danny looked up from his second cup of coffee. When he saw the black cloud of insects flow in from the hallway he almost choked on his drink. He gave a startled cough, watching as the veritable swarm pooled around his daughter almost like an aura of sorts.

A chill ran down his spine.

It was both beautiful and terrifying, in a way. To see powers from so up close when all he had known as his life were videos and second-hand pictures of heroes and villains tearing up the city. This was raw and controlled, Danny could see the ever slight frown on his daughter's face. She had to put some effort into controlling so many bugs.

"So you can control insects. That's uhh...what kind of power is that?" Danny was not nearly as much of a scholar when it came to capes as Taylor was, it seemed.

But that was fine; it meant he wasn't likely aware of the unfortunate connotations behind Taylor's rather unsettling ability.

Ironically, it was 'just' bug control.

"I'm a Master. Maybe a Tinker, too. I, uh. I make new ones by vomiting them up." Taylor ended her statement with a wince. She was the one with the power but even she thought that aspect was rather gross. Although, to be perfectly fair, she could think of at least one or two capes with worse conditions.

There was that one guy who could sweat knockout gas, but wasn't immune to it. Or that one girl that could control hair, but had to cut it after growing it every time. She could perhaps settle for the second one, if only to avoid being labelled the next Nilbog.

Danny closed his eyes. "When it rains, it pours, I suppose. At least you aren't another Heartbreaker or Nilbog."

When Taylor paled, quite a bit too, Danny knew he'd goofed. He quickly activated a set of skills that had benefited himself as a father, a husband, and the head of the Dockworkers Union. Swiftly reviewing the end of the conversation he realized she'd paled when he said Nilbog. And- "Oh shit, I'm sorry Taylor. You're not another Nilbog."

"I know Dad. Objectively. Maybe. But I make my own creations. And I'm pretty sure I qualify as a Bio-Tinker. Maybe even a low Thinker rating. I don't understand everything. But, when I swallowed a bug I realized I had access to a new set of genes." It had been rather disgusting now that she thought about it, but she was still too shocked to notice back then.

Quirking an eyebrow, Danny stood up straighter. "A new set of genes?" Eyes widening he understood at least a fraction of the implications.

"Well. Shit. Let's go sit down. And, if you don't mind, send your bugs back outside? I want you to start from the beginning and, well, it's a bit awkward with them all just hovering there."

Blushing, Taylor did just that.

"Sure Dad. I suppose it would be best to sit down. There's a lot I don't understand myself."

Danny took Taylor's empty cup, warily eyeing the still present swarm, and placed them in the sink and rinsed them out. A few moments later, after the bugs had flown outside, the two sat down and Taylor began to speak.

 **[Scouting the Battlefield]**

The pair had spoken at great length, with Taylor doing more than a little venting, and demonstrating quite a few small tricks. But, eventually, they moved on to headier topics. Like the current state of Brockton Bay. Thankfully, Taylor had quickly used the power of Google, and referenced a few bookmarked PHO threads, to pull up what amounted to 95% of the publicly available information on the gangs and capes in the bity.

"So." Taylor started. "Our first order of business is to establish who the big players of Brockton Bay are. Who are our friends and who will be our enemies!" She stood before a large map of the Bay, which had been visibly painted over, with different symbols and colored sections.

Pointing to a section large section in the North East, roughly colored blue, Taylor began.

"Here we have our homefront, the Docks. This is the area we must strive to protect and hold above all others. Unfortunately it is currently being occupied by some of the worst trash of society, the Merchants." At this, she saw her father bristle. She knew he hated this particular gang over all others from just how often they acted up. Having trigger happy junkies as well as insane capes running around was bad for business; and dad being the head of the Dockworkers Union meant he had to deal with their shit almost daily.

Danny snorted. "A greater hive of scum and villainy and all that rot."

Taylor thought her dad was more right than he knew.

"They're a cancer."

She saw her father quirk an eyebrow. A universal gesture to continue.

"Well, not only do they push a hell of a lot of drugs, their product tends to be crap that's more likely to be rat poison then coke. But they also generally make the place worse. Not just graffiti, but they leave a lot waste products like needles, alcohol containers, and cigarette butts all over the place. Add in the fact they tend to not care about maintaining the properties they squad in, and, well, just by their presence they depress the Docks."

Danny gave a whistle of appreciation. "Well done Little Owl, I always knew you had your mom's heart, but, and I'm not joking when I say this, you've got her head too. Two other big things though. Because a lot of their crime is violent, insurance premiums are up and property values are down. That means a lot of businesses simply can't operate here. They'd never break even. And you also have to remember that the fact there's no stores, means no jobs. So more people get desperate. And desperate people do desperate things. Not just joining a gang. But things like alcohol and drug consumption go up. And while drinking a beer doesn't make you beat your wife or shoot your husband, it can lead to a lot of other issues through a combination of other factors."

Taylor, flush with a warm glow at her father's praise, listened raptly. While there weren't really any children in Brockton Bay, you grow up way too fast for that, adults still tended not to treat teenagers like they were capable of using their heads. And while her dad had never spoken down to her, the fact he was treating her like such an adult meant a lot to her.

"I think I understand. Basically, because things are hard, people are under stress, so they act out more. It's a cycle, right?"

At her father's nod, Taylor continued.

"Next, we have their capes. Originally, they were lead by Skidmark, allegedly the kind left by tires, in truth, it's because he just doesn't wipe!" Danny snorted a laugh. Skidmark was a vicious idiot. He was much, much more dangerous before the Meth got to him. Even if he was more likely to stab someone now.

"But, ever since Kaiser and Oni Lee humiliated him, two new capes, Vomit and Bleeder, started to show up. After about a week it got out that Skidmark was missing an eye and those two were in charge now. As far as anyone can tell Vomit is capable of violently spewing a mass of sticky mucus. Supposedly it can break bones and Vomit can control its velocity. Notably it's strong enough to hold down mid level Brutes without issue. Bleeder, on the other hand, is a Shaker capable of causing low level bleeding on a large scale. There's at least one report of her being able to tie up more than a thousand people by targeting a mall."

The senior Hebert spoke up. "They're nasty. But, ironically, the fact they're even more violent than that washed up meth head means that the ABB and E88 stopped fighting long enough to turn on them. It even took a bit of pressure off the Union. A lot of our boys aren't getting hassled nearly as much."

Taylor sighed. "Is it too much to ask that they wipe each other out? Or that the PRT at least uses the opportunity to make some major arrests? I mean, the vikings used something like this to wipe out a bunch of Gaelic nobles!"

With a grim bark of a laugh, Danny sighed. "In Brockton Bay? Not a snowball's chance."

Sadly nodding, Taylor continued. "Either way, the Merchant's have two more capes. Squealer and Mush. All together, they have five known, active parahumans. A surprisingly low number considering the amount of territory they hold. That said, their utter lack of regard for human life and the fact everyone already hates them means they don't really hold back. If I remember correctly, they're involved in the highest number of violent crimes of all the gangs, even if it's the ABB with the highest alleged body count. Year on year, at least."

She pointed to the red section located to the northwest.

"And speaking of them, here's the territory of the ABB. Lead by Lung. They are infamous, and marginally more reliable, drug dealers and human traffickers known for being extremely territorial. Lung has managed to fight off the local Protectorate heroes by himself on more than one occasion, due to his overwhelming power; that is to turn into a fire-breathing dragon." Needless to say, she would make it a point to avoid the Dragon of Kyushu for the foreseeable future.

With a wry smile, Taylor continued. "Like the Merchants, the ABB have at least one Tinker. Bakuda, who is known to have a personal vendetta against Squealer, specializes in bombs as opposed to the vehicle based creations of her erstwhile rival. However, unlike the Merchants, the ABB's other capes are quite a bit more directly nasty, if less effective at crowd control. Tae Kwon, Oni Lee, and Devi. All three are nasty. Oni Lee is a suicide bombing teleporter, Tae Kwon is a combat Thinker with a low Brute rating and extremely high end martial art skills, and Devi is some kind of Striker who could destroy anything she touched. Devi, in particular, is dangerous. Rumors abound that she's a Blaster, too. And that she only keeps that hidden to make sure she has an ace in the hole."

Taylor stopped for a moment and stepped into the kitchen to get something to drink. It was starting to get a bit dark so she figured she could get started on dinner while continuing.

"Hey, Dad, come on in here. We'll keep talking while I start on dinner. How's tacos sound?"

"Sounds good kiddo. You need any help?"

"Not really. I've had the ground beef defrosting for a while, so I think it's ready to cook up now. The usual spices?"

Danny shot her an offended look. "Of course! It's not good unless your eyes are watering!"

Taylor giggled. "Dad, you're so weird."

Walking over the fridge, Danny responded. "Of course. Where do you think you got it from."

As he sipped a beer and Taylor fired up the stove, they both reflected.

This kind of thing hadn't happened in a while. The two of them just talking and laughing and teasing. For Taylor she was actually considering that, if it gave her, her dad back, then, well, maybe the Incident wasn't so bad. For Danny, he was regretting that it took the attempted murder of his baby girl for him to actually sit up and pay attention.

"Hey Taylor." Waiting for Taylor to look up from cutting a few peppers, Danny looked her in the eye. "I love you, you know that right?"

"Of course Daddy. And I love you too. What brought this up?"

"Nothing. I just realized I don't tell you that nearly enough."

Taylor took a moment, making sure the meat wasn't burning in the pan. After that she sat down with her dad and took his hands in her own.

"What's done is done. All we can do is look towards the future. Yeah?"

Danny nodded. "Yeah. So, who's next? I suppose the Empire?"

Taylor stood up and went back to cooking, this time mixing a few previously cut onions, a bit of garlic, and the peppers she'd prepared with the meat, planning to cook the lot together. Really seal in the flavors.

"Yup. The E88, our resident Neo Nazi trash. They mostly hold the middle of the city, the financial districts, which are south of the ABB, who are in the North West and north of the Gentry. Because of the fact that Kaiser and Iron Rain are strong enough to hold back a LOT of people, the ABB is hesitant to fight them. On the flip side, the E88 have zero interest in dying against the Gentry. So, a vague ceasefire has occurred in the area. At the moment, the Empire and the ABB want to push the Merchants towards the coast, before wiping them out entirely. If I remember correctly, this started after a Merchant cape shot Iron Rain in the back and Oni Lee delivered the woman's head. Fucked up. But, it was enough for Iron Rain to, in a rage, nearly bring a kill order down on herself."

Speaking up, Danny recalled how terrified he'd been that day. "I remember hearing the explosions over at the Docks. She levelled two or three blocks. The PRT were head hunting after her for a month. More's the pity they didn't get her."

"Considering she, along with Kaiser, make two of the nastiest Shakers in town it's lucky the PRT didn't lose any capes of their own. Not to mention the sheer laundry list of capes those guys have. Fenja, Menja, Crusader, Hookwolf, Purity, Night, Fog, Alabaster, Stormtiger, Cricket, Krieg, Victor, Othalla, and Rune. Add to that the fact that PHO is convinced they have at least one more Brute who's probably also a Blaster, both pretty high rankings, hidden somewhere, and, well. It's probably only the fact that Alexandria herself came down on Iron Rain back during all that, that kept them from seizing the city."

Danny shook his head. "Jesus, sixteen capes. Maybe seventeen? That's more than most cities. More than a couple states, now that I think about it."

Nodding, Taylor responded. "Yeah. Allegedly, Kaiser managed to negotiate with Gesellschaft over in Europe and more than a few smaller out of town gangs to get that many capes. The fact that they're actually a rising political faction here helps lend an air of legitimacy to them, too. They promise safety, and, so far, they've actually managed to keep their territory intact."

With a snort and a dismissive wave of his hand Danny motioned for Taylor, who had turned to look at him while speaking, to continue.

"The last group, and do you want your shell fried, are the Gentry." Stopping, Taylor pulled out a roll of soft shells.

"Yeah. Go ahead and make two or three for me."

"Gotcha. Anyways, the Gentry, lead by Marquis, are the oldest of the current crop of gangs. Or at least, they've been important for the longest. They hold the south west of the city, just below the E88 and west of the PRT. They've got the Lady, the Vizier, the Seamstress, Sable, and Faerie as their most common members. On the surface, they have, without question, the most diverse range of capes in the city, being a Striker, two Masters, a Shaker with Trump and Stranger ratings, and a nasty, nasty Stranger all in their ranks. Add to that, they've been seen with a pair of unnamed capes running about with one being a Mover and the other a likely Tinker, and you've got a lot of solid reasons for why no one fucks with the Gentry."

In a way, Brockton Bay was like a delicate ecosystem with its own balance of power. The big players liked to remain on top and the smaller factions moved in the cracks between them. Unfortunately, with so many large factions, there were very few rogues and minor groups, aside from two very significant ones.

"Daddy, would you get the plates down while I get the food ready, I think there's also a bit of salad still in the fridge, grab that too, please."

"Sure. Do you want tea or apple juice, I think it's still good?"

"Tea please!"

For a few minutes the Hebert household was quite, save for the sounds of clinking cutlery and an ambulance in the distance. Once they both had a number of tacos properly dressed and on their plates, a small salad with a few fresh cherry tomatoes, courtesy of a gift from Lacey, and glass of tea and another bottle of beer for Taylor and Danny respectively they sat down and dug in.

After both were a good ways through their meal, Danny spoke up. "Well done Taylor. This is great. I suppose it's a good thing you're so talented at cooking since your power seems to have upped your metabolism so much."

"Thanks. I learned a lot from Mom's cook books…."

Before things could turn morose, Danny jumped in. "So, those are all the major gangs. But isn't there two or three smaller groups around the place? I think I heard something about a Coil? A snake themed villain at least."

Mumbling around a mouthful of taco meat Taylor responded. "Yeah. 'gulp' Coil is out to the west of the Bay proper. He's loosely, and I do mean loosely, considered neutral. Technically speaking, he's an arms dealer and information broker. Supposedly, he's got six or seven capes which are an even mix of Thinkers and Tinkers. He's taken great pains to keep their powers well hidden. And his own are so well hidden a lot of people think he's actually not a cape."

Danny shook his head. "I doubt that. Normal people have big enough egos that they're damn near impossible to keep in line. If what you said is true then there's no way Coil isn't a cape. I just can't see him building an organization like that otherwise."

"I'll defer to you on that Dad. But yeah. Coil has made a lot of money and has a lot of soft power. When he needs muscle he contracts out to Faultline's Crew. They're the group of Case 53s that were on the news last Tuesday."

Hming thoughtfully, Danny, with a slight hint of confusion, opened up with a question.

"Don't they mostly work for the Gentry? I'm sure they were making a showing against the Empire. That's what was on the news. The fact that nearly twenty capes were about to rumble. Heck, Anderson was thinking of getting his family out of town."

Taylor shook her head. "That's a common misconception. Faultline's boys and girls are mercs, through and through. They'll work for anyone, hero or villain, if they pay. The PRT has hired them more than once."

"Really? I suppose that's better than just working for villains." Danny sighed. If one wanted to live in Brockton Bay, a certain degree of situational awareness was required. He had heard some nasty stories about people who moved into town only to step on the wrong people's toes and get splattered all over the sidewalk.

It was one of the reasons why the rest of the country tended to ignore their little cosy hellmouth.

On that grim thought Danny let the discussion drop, he and Taylor focusing on their meal. While they worked together for cleanup they made small talk. Danny asking how her first day of homeschool went and Taylor making sure he was ok with leftovers for lunch tomorrow.

Eventually, they settled back into the living room, deciding to finish up their earlier discussion. Danny nursing a cup of decaf and Taylor a glass of warm tea with lemon.

"Now." Taylor's voice snapped him back into focus. She was pointing to a green area of the map. "Up next we have the area held by the PRT, mostly the administrative center of the Bay. The local protectorate is actually very well staffed when compared to other cities, with experienced heroes like Armsmaster and Miss Militia along with other famous ones like Assault, Battery, Dauntless, Triumph, Challenger and Velocity. Not to mention the Wards. In short, they've earned their designation of PRT East by North East"

The Wards were heroes under the age of eighteen that worked for the Protectorate in exchange for protection and help in developing their powers. She didn't know all the details but it was supposed to be a good deal for most would be heroes. Obviously, she had zero desire to involve herself with drama or political bullshit. Taylor wanted to help people.

"That's a lot of capes too. Why don't we see them cracking down on villains as often if they have so many?" Taylor preened in pride. Her dad was asking more questions out of interest, not just out of worry for her but because he was genuinely curious about their local parahuman situation.

As she was a proud cape geek, Taylor was all too happy to answer.

"It has to do with the way they operate. The PRT is obligated, by US law, to deploy parahuman help whenever a cape is causing trouble. So even their impressive line up can be stretched thin most days. It's a numbers game. At best, there are likely 3 if not 4 villain capes for every single hero." There was also a myriad of smaller factors like the Wards not being deployed for situations deemed too dangerous for them, or that the local PRT normally took a defensive stance when it came to holding territory.

Never actively attacking, only reacting to threats and the fact that they were almost never allowed to use lethal force meant that they were hamstrung from the beginning.

It was similar to how the Gentry handled their business, only they didn't have to spread their capes all over town, thus leaving a whole lot of cracks for enemies to slip through.

"So, the simple explanation is that PRT simply can't deal with the villains?"

Taylor made a so-so gesture. "For normal day to day operations, the PRT is great. But, unfortunately, more heroes die than villains. Even when accounting for the differences in behavior between them, things like the SH9 and the Endbringers can kill as much as twice as many heros. So, at the end of the day, the PRT takes greater losses and has a smaller pool of talent than the rogues, or independents, and villains. Even vigilantes, in terms of absolute numbers, can match, if not exceed, heros."

Danny, somewhat distressed, spoke up. "But what about the Brigade? I know they've been fighting tooth and nail to hold the Eastern shanty towns. I've heard a lot about their work."

Eagerly nodding, Taylor continued. "That's true, but you forget. They're independents themselves. However, I do admit the Brockton Bay Brigade has done a lot of good work. However, with the defeat of more than half of them at the hands of the Marquis alone and near death of Fleur means that they've lost a lot of respect and influence. And with the PRT leveraging concessions from them every time Glory Girl hurts a civilian they basically exist at the Protectorate's discretion."

"So the PRT has a lot of experience with troublesome powers?"

Taylor froze up and took a deep breath. She knew this would come up eventually. She realized that, obviously, her dad would want her to join the PRT. It was the, relatively, safest option for a young hero as the PRT required parental consent for Endbringer fights. And the PRT never let Wards fight S class threats. Throw in the fact that Alexandria had, twice, killed villains for kidnapping and torturing Wards, and, well, they were pretty safe. Unless they got shot by a junky, at least.

Taylor nodded to herself. She had to be firm, even if she really didn't want to fight. "I'm not joining the Wards dad."

Instead of getting angry, like she expected him to do, Danny just nodded his head and, in an incredibly even tone, spoke. "Of course not. You've been abused and neglected by all authority figures in your life. It would be patently unreasonable for me to demand you give up what little autonomy you have in exchange for the chance to just be let down again."

She grimaced. "Dad, a lot of stuff has happened, but I don't want you to beat yourself up over it. I could see you included yourself in there, I saw your eyes tighten and your jaw twitch. That always happens when you're upset. But, thank you for accepting responsibility and thank you for being so polite. But I'm not joining the Wards. For those reasons and more."

"Ok. We're at an impasse. So let's do this. You're nearly a grown woman. If you so chose, you could bear a child." Danny let the annoyed look he shot her show his displeasure at the idea. Taylor rolled her eyes. "You can get a job, drive a car, and pay taxes. It hasn't escaped my notice that you've also been taking care of the house, dealing with Winslow, and keeping me fed for the last year and a half. Taylor, you'll always be my baby girl, but you've grown up on me. And it's only right I treat you like an adult."

It was obvious to Taylor how serious her dad was. He usually wasn't one for speeches. Indeed, he was rather laconic. But when he said something, he meant it. And with the way he spat Winslow out, he considered her to have dealt with something rather intense.

"Alright Dad. How do you want to do this, then?"

"Well, instead of blowing up at each other and getting into a nasty, knock down, drag out fight. We could, if it's not too simple, act like adults and talk this out. We'll give our reasons and try to wrangle up something vaguely acceptable to the both of us. I'll even go first. Of course, if you'd much rather we can get the police called on us for a domestic dispute?"

Taylor giggled. 'Ok. Dad's being not just nice, but, Hell, I think he actually respects me. Enough to treat me like an equal. I suppose there was a silver lining to Winslow in the end.'

"Nah, I'd rather not have to spend a night sleeping on concrete, thank you very much!"

Danny laughed at this. "Alright sweetheart. If you say so. Anyways, my concerns are manifold. But I'll focus on the big three. First, safety. Second, supplies. Third, training. Working on your own gets you none of that. And while I'd be more than happy for you to stay home and let your powers be a pretty gross party trick, I'm not even stupid enough to try for that. Instead, I want you to do the best you can. Unfortunately-" Here he let some of his shame slip through "powers or not, I've already shown I can't protect you. And even if I broke the bank I doubt I could afford to get you anything more than a .22 and the cheapest vest out there. Never mind anything that could actually protect you."

Taylor blanched. "Well. First off, do you really think I'd need a gun?"

He stared at Taylor. After a few seconds of awkward shuffling on her part, Taylor spoke up. "Yeah. This is Brockton Bay. I guess that was a bit silly, heh heh…."

Eyebrow cocked, he let the stare linger for a bit more before snorting and gesturing for Taylor to continue.

"Alright. I admit the Bay is hardly the best place for a cape. But I think, maybe, a stun gun and pepper spray would be the most that be smart to carry. I have no idea how to use a gun, never mind-." Taylor stopped herself.

'Sigh. Training. Damn, he thought this through.'

"Never mind not knowing how to actually fight. But I was hoping I could rely on my bugs. With maybe a day or two I think I know how I can really improve my library of genes. And even then, my control is incredibly fine. I don't plan on actually fighting anyone head on."

"The best lain plans of bugs and women."

Her brow twitched. "Dad…."

Danny felt his 'Father' instincts spike. "Yeeees, my most beautiful daughter?"

"Did you just mutilate a famous quote to be glibe?"

Knowing he was cornered, Danny did the smart thing. "Of course not, my most beloved and precious treasure. Why would I do that?"

"Grooooooooan. Dad. You're so weird." Giggling, Taylor buried her face in her hands.

Letting out a few chuckles, Danny let out a sigh. "Little Owl, I suppose, in the end, I'm scared. It terrifies me what could go wrong. Not to be dark, but, the obvious things are just that. So you can see why I don't want you to do this?"

Taylor gave a slow nod. She'd gone to Winslow. And she wasn't stupid. Very, very bad things tended to happen to girls when things went badly. "I understand that. I really, really do. But I can finally do something. Make a difference. So, even with that possibly being as disturbingly likely as it is. I have to do something. Otherwise….otherwise Winslow was all for nothing."

Danny slowly nodded in understanding. "I get what you're saying. At least I think I do."

He stood up and walked over to Taylor. She stood up and they hugged for a bit.

"You're afraid that the PRT is going to use and abuse you, that the Wards are just going to be more drama. And all you want to do is be a hero."

Sitting back down, Taylor continued. "Yeah. But, at the end of the day I just can't bring myself to trust them. I mean, could I maybe try going out as an independent? Just for a week?"

Danny considered it. He had zero desire to make an ultimatum and Taylor sneak around as a cape behind his back. And that was inevitable. She might not wear her heart on her sleeve, but Taylor was a creature of strong passions. 'Just like her mother.'

His eyes softened.. "Maybe. How about this. Let's do a bit of prep work, I'll see about getting you some pepper spray, and, if nothing else, train you up for a little while. Tony, one of the boys down at the docks, has a brother who's a sergeant in the Protectorate. We can see about getting him to come talk to you, in a strictly non official capacity. Then, after that, maybe we talk about you going out on your own for a bit. Ok?"

Taylor, just happy that she was being treated like an adult, nodded her agreement. "Ok for now. But don't think I'll be happy if this is one of those times where 'we'll talk about it' means 'no, and stop bugging me'."

He couldn't help it, Danny laughed. "Of course not Little Owl. I wouldn't dream of doing that to you. Not after that I time you were eight and I tried to put off discussing your birthday party. I think my ears are still ringing from the dressing down you gave me!"

Blushing, Taylor shook her head. "God, you're so embarrassing. 'sigh' But I do love you Dad 'Yawn' For now though, I think I'm gonna go get a shower and go to bed."

Standing up she kissed Danny on the cheek and walked off. "Night Dad."

"Night, Little Owl."

That night, Daniel Hebert sat down with a photo album and, knowing he had work tomorrow, still took the time to remember better times. And hope and pray that, whatever the future held, it was going to be bright for Taylor.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: Hello people of the internet! It's that time of the week again when I and my faithful assistant come around to deliver another chapter of Sasori! Once again, I would like to thank those who have reviewed and to let them know that I appreciate the feedback. We will also be doing a revision of Chapter 1 later this week.**

 **Alvor: Yup. Gotta always do our best. Of course, I personally thought that meant nothing but hard core XXX wall to wall. But Crimson beat me over the head with a slab of beef.**

 **Wyvern: And I will continue to do so until you cease frustrating me.**

 **Alvor: Love you too. Anyways, on with the show!**

Chapter 2: Powers, Meetings and Capes

 **[Brockton Bay - The Docks/Bus Route]**

Taylor had to admit that with her new routine came a new set of opportunities to explore and abuse. Now that she didn't need to stick around Winslow and its drama she was free to move as she liked and not have to deal with the Terrible Trio. Sure, there was Brockton Bay's usual array of problems such as crime and violence, which meant she couldn't walk around carelessly, but those were easier to deal with than Sophia Hess.

In her mind, at least.

With her new freedoms, however, came also new duties and responsibilities. She still woke up early, mainly so she could do her daily walk and see her dad off when he left for work, so adapting to a slight increase in house work was pretty simple. And her school work was long done before lunch came around.

Of course, part of that had come from it being a week since she had revealed her powers to her dad. And, thankfully, they had fallen into a comfortable routine. Sure there was an acclimatization period but she'd adapted quickly.

There were still some hiccups though.

Like how she had forgotten to prepare her dad's lunch last night because of her falling asleep right after dinner; and had to go deliver it herself to the Docks while, normally, her dad would have just taken it with him. Sure it was a bit embarrassing to think about, but it wasn't like she minded doing it. It did help that there was a bus stop just a few streets down from the Dockworker's Union, meaning she didn't have to walk all the way there.

The weather that morning was rather chilly, not overbearingly so; but enough that Taylor was glad she'd brought her heavy jacket. Living in the far North East could suck sometimes. Like when a sudden cold front dropped everything down below fifty degrees. That really, really sucked.

Of course, it also had the useful side effect of revealing that her critters were incredibly resistant to the changes in temperature. Not something you usually saw in insects, but she was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

After all, it did help her push forward with her very first large scale operation.

Operation: Dine and Dash

The name was a work in progress.

Basically, all of the swarms she'd already spawned were currently active and buzzing about the city. But that wasn't all. Joining her usual creations was a brand new strain of critters, tentatively dubbed "The Collectors".

She really needed to find better names for cape-stuff.

Based off of mosquitos, her newest minions had moderate tweeks to their actual external shape, involving an increase in their size, speed, and brain size relative to the body. Additionally Taylor had to perform several internal modifications in order to get the desired result, which included the removal of most of their digestive tract, reproductive system, and a whole lot of redundant organs.

Well, they weren't really 'redundant', just not necessary for her purposes.

This had been her first actual experiment with creating different insect models, even if the they were still based off the ones that normally came from her body. And while it was more or less successful Taylor had discovered a few limitations regarding what she could and couldn't make using her powers.

She also found out a bit more regrading her Thinker power.

It was creepy just how easy entomology seemed to come to her. It wasn't like she was a genius at it, or that she had been enthusiastic about studying them on the past. She just seemed to have developed an innate understanding of how her critters worked and the layout of their bodies. It wasn't much, but from that point it was easy to research additional information on normal species and find the parallels. And when she was in her gene-space, patent pending, it was just easy to make things 'click'.

"Yeah, that's a bit grody. But, well, they are just bugs. Still, they should manage to gather the blood samples needed and they'll be perfect for that."

As it was Brockton Bay, despite the content of her statement, she didn't even get a second glance for muttering to herself. 'I suppose there are a few benefits to having so many capes running about.'

Her goals for the day, other than killing time until her swarm had finished its job, were to pick up a graphing calculator, as cheaply as possible, and then pick up a pair of shoes that didn't have six types of stains. Maybe she could fit in a trip to a bookstore while she was at it, make the most out of the trip now that she didn't have to worry about running into those raging, psychotic bitches she'd put up with for a year and change.

Waiting for the next bus to pick her up also gave her plenty of time to think about the previous days and really digest her talks with her father.

 _Taylor took a deep breath and felt the pouch holding her critters contract, accompanied by the familiar sensation of bile rising up her throat. This time, however, she was ready and willing to let it flow, spitting the black slime steadily rather than outright vomiting it like in the kitchen. The goo formed a puddle in the center of the garage and remained static for a few seconds before she saw the familiar fly-like insects rise from it._

 _She checked the mental link._

 _Good, they weren't being affected by her nerves. They knew she was somewhat stressed but didn't interpret its source as a threat and thus did not react defensively._

 _"You know," Danny sounded queasy, if not a little nauseated. "When I said you were at the age where you could have kids. I didn't think it would be this soon."_

 _She snorted at the joke. Yeah, she didn't expect to give birth so early either. Nor that it would be to so many at once. Fortunately her critters were easy to raise and didn't make as much noise, otherwise the whole city would knocking at their door by now._

 _"Does that black stuff have a bad taste?" He wrinkled his nose at the puddle. Taylor really wasn't thinking when she said her powers were nasty._

 _"Not really, it's like water, tasteless. Just...umm...a bit thicker I guess." She never really stopped to think about it. Sure she had washed her mouth and brushed her teeth more times yesterday than she had in any other given week, but that was mostly to get rid of the stains on and in her mouth._

 _By that point the critters were now fully developed, their small minds creating the familiar pressure against hers._

 _They were ready._

 _"Alright. We are ready to go." Her critters concurred with excitable buzzing._

She could tell her father wasn't wholly comfortable with her powers at the time, she knew she wasn't, but the fact that he was being understanding enough to let her use them and asked questions instead of assuming things meant a lot to her. Just knowing that she was free to experiment as long as she was careful spoke of a level of trust between them she thought they had lost.

She didn't think they had fully rebuilt their relationship yet. There were still many things she hadn't told him about the bullying campaign against her, things she still wasn't comfortable talking about.

She had yet to show him the notebooks containing the play by play of her year and half of torment.

Taylor admitted that they still had a long way to go before things went back to normal, or as normal as they could be now, but the fact that they were trying made her confident they would get there eventually. That he hadn't freaked out when he heard the specifics of her power was just another point on his favor.

 _"So, you said you were a Master. Does that mean you have to take control the insects as soon as you spawn them or are they already born with you in control of them?" It hadn't taken long for the little bugs to crawl out of the slime and he hadn't noticed any strain on Taylor's part._

 _Although he could be missing out on a few details since he had only gotten the basics from her when it came to powers. Obviously, he knew the basics. But capes were always more of something to avoid._

 _Taylor took a moment to think about it. "I think they're always under my control. Before they're born, even. But this, combined with the group from yesterday, I think this is the most I could control. Even if I think I could make more. I….feel like I could make as many as I want. Or at least as many as I can eat food to supply. But I think if I made many more then, while I don't think they would be hostile, I think they would probably just act as normally as they could."_

 _Danny looked a little worried. "So they would make more of themselves? Could they start to reproduce out of control?"_

Just remembering the question made Taylor scoff. With how basic her first strand of critters was there was no way they would be able to safely breed and then she had gone ahead and completely removed that issue to save up space on newer breeds.

She needed way more information before she could even think of having her critters reproduce.

It was for that reason she added a bookstore to her list of places to visit. Mostly because their internet had been cut the day before and she heard that the public library had been shot up that morning. Plus, she was also really, really bored.

A familiar soft buzzing filled Taylor's ears as T2 landed on her shoulder. The little critter had taken to following her around since early that morning, when she had dispersed the swarm all over the Bay.

Taylor smiled.

She could honestly say she didn't mind the company of her first creation, having grown used to her constant presence over the week. It helped that, in its little buggy brain, there was the closest approximation to affection it could form. It even helped Taylor pick out her first born from the rest of the swarm. That said, she had learnt her lesson though, no flying outside home.

A squeal of aged, rusting brakes got her attention. Taylor stepped out of the covered bus shelter and walked onto the aging public transport. Quickly flashing her bus pass, she walked towards the middle of the vehicle and settled in a seat that was mostly unstained.

Mostly. This was Brockton Bay after all.

She propped her arm against the window, using it to support her head as she stared aimlessly at the passing streets, still occupied with her thoughts.

 _"What can you make them do?" Danny stepped around the puddle, carefully avoiding the black slime stains as he surveyed the critters._

 _"That's a bit complicated." Taylor hummed in thought. "I can give them certain commands like 'move in that direction' or 'search for food'. But those are simple orders. If I assume total control over them I can move them however I want, but it's very psychologically tiring. However, I have a feeling that has more to do with the fact they're basically just bugs."_

 _It was only by a miracle that she managed to clear the kitchen of her accidental swarm yesterday, and even that short period of effort left her with a pounding headache._

 _Speaking of control._

 _"I can also assume total control over one of them. Use its body like it was my own." Her first flight experience was still fresh in her mind. Fortunately that migraine had subsided though._

 _"That sounds...dangerous." Danny said carefully, as if tasting the word for the first time. "What if you got hurt as a bug? There is the possibility you could die."_

 _Taylor stiffened, memories of being attacked and eating by a giant bird making her wince. Yeah, something like that was likely a big risk. She wasn't gonna say anything that experience anytime soon though._

 _Dad would ground her if he ever found out._

 _"Taylor…."_

 _'Shit' "Um. It leaves me with a pretty nasty headache, but that's it. It's not even enough to take me out of action. So, you know, it's fine…?"_

 _Danny sighed and made a go on gesture with his hand._

 _"Well, seeing as how I sent the original swarm out when we came in here, from what I can feel I'm pretty sure they've made it to the far edges of the city. So my range is pretty large. That said, my fine control is far from perfect. Selecting a single insect is difficult. T2, the first bug I made, is the only one that ever stands out to me. And even then, she's not exactly easy to grasp when she's mixed in with the swarm. I think it's because they're all, basically, the same thing. But I'm not really sure."_

 _With a grimace and a shuffle, Taylor thought how she wanted to phrase this._

 _"It's like each of the creatures are a very, very tiny pressure on my mind. A single one is almost entirely unnoticeable. And even now, with three or four thousand, if not more, it's more like a firm touch. Vaguely, I get the sense I could handle, hmm, maybe five thousand? And the number is slowly getting a bit bigger. But I also think that if I tried to control too many it could cause a lot of pain. Maybe even physically dangerous."_

 _"And you'll be promising not to push your limits too hard?"_

 _Quickly nodding, Taylor continued. "Of course. I mean, obviously, if I'm in serious danger, or you are, or something like that I'll do what I have to. I have no intention of giving myself an aneurysm."_

 _Danny just put his head in his hands. "Sweetheart, you're gonna turn me gray."_

 _"'Snort' Dad, I think it's a bit late for that.."_

 _"Hey! Lacey happened to have assured me that men having a bit of grey is quite sexy!"_

 _"Dad, Kurt and Lacey are two of your oldest friends. And I know for a fact that Lacey was just telling you that to make you feel better."_

 _Wildly miming being shot in the heart, Danny pretended to fall over. "Oh, woe is me. My own daughter batters and insults me!"_

 _Giggling, Taylor lightly punched her dad in the arm. "Come on Shakespeare, I've gotta go brush my teeth and then you've gotta get to work. I'll get this cleaned up after you leave."_

 _As the two Heberts made their way inside, Taylor flexed her mental muscles and brought her dispersed swarm back home. It'd take a bit, but probably not too long. Then she'd join her whole swarm into one and see about sitting down and actually making a few new breeds._

Watching the buildings flicker by, Taylor took a deep breath. She'd been on the bus for half an hour now. On the way to her last stop. All that remained was to pick up a new bag and then she could head on home. Still, she'd had an introspection heavy trip. Not the best thing in a city as dangerous as the Bay. But, recently, Taylor had been having trouble even caring.

At the end of the day, Taylor was afraid. Afraid that things would derail just as she had regained some balance going through so much. Afraid of confined spaces. And afraid that she'd lose her father again.

She bit back a snort.

'To be honest, I was pretty clingy the first couple of days. I don't think I let him leave my bedside for more than ten minutes while we were still in the hospital.'

All things considered, Taylor was….content. What issues between her and her father were eventually going to be fixed. It was a matter of time, now. Old tensions were gone and their relationship was stronger than it had been since before her mom had died.

She was also making preparations to start her career as a hero. Sure things were going slow at the moment, but once she got more information and material to work with it would be a matter of months if not weeks before she could get started.

Taylor gave T2 a once over, willing the critter to fly onto her palm.

Yup, life was finally looking up.

"Interesting book you got there."

Taylor lurched forward, nearly falling out of her seat in surprise. Quickly snapping back into focus, she looked up and around her to see who had said that before finally zeroing on a girl a few seats in front of her. She closed the small book she had brought for the trip yet completely forgotten about, putting it back in her pocket.

She was a blonde girl, likely the same age as Taylor if not a bit older. The girl's hair was tied back in a bun and she had some of the deepest green eyes she had ever seen outside of her own. She noticed some freckles on her face that combined with her light smile made her seem mischievous if not downright impish.

"Uh..thanks?" She hazarded. Call her paranoid but she wouldn't be trusting girls her own age any time soon.

The blonde girl seemed unfazed by her questioning stare though, never losing that knowing smile of hers as she plopped onto the seat next to Taylor's. Great, just what she needed. Was this the universe's answer to her finally getting rid of those monsters? By throwing a new one at her just as she felt comfortable enough to go out and have a good day.

She nearly jumped through the roof of the bus though when a hand patted her on the shoulder, giving her a light squeeze.

"Now, now don't be like that. If I was planning on 'screwing' you over, I'd at least wait until we didn't have an audience."

Taylor blinked. The come on was so terrible and obvious it simply caused a mental short circuit. "Um. What?"

The girl tilted her head, exposing just a bit of her neck, letting a few strands of her hair fall in across her chin. Taylor blinked again.

'Is this really happening? Right now?'

"Of course it is. And, hand to God, right here, too!"

Eyes slightly wide, Taylor chalked the girl's joke up to a good guess at what was going through her head at the moment. Besides, she was just…plain old Taylor. Flat as a board, no hips, no curves. It should have been quite telling since no one but that little creep Veder had ever expressed the most miniscule sign of interest in her.

"Well, yeah. Because most people are fucking stupid. You've got long legs, your features are sharp, and you'll grow into your body. Honestly? You'll peak about twenty two, twenty three. Legs for miles, a model's figure. All you'll need to do is work out a bit and eat right. Hell, I'm a bit jealous actually. Especially since your hair is all natural and your eyes are just gorgeous."

Two things occured to Taylor. First, this girl was a Thinker or a Master. Secondly, well.

'God fucking damnit. Why is the first person, in eighteen months, that has shown me the smallest shred of attention a cape.'

"Because there is a God and Murphy is his name?"

Taylor shot her a chilling look, but the new girl just smirked at her. It was different from the mocking smiles and jeers she was used to though. It took her a few moments to realize she was joking around with her, like how she and Emma used to do when they were younger.

She sighed and buried her face in hands, having put her purchase back into her well filled handbag; just in case she needed to wack someone with it.

Fine. If blondie wasn't going to do anything to her than she could play along for a bit, maybe find out what she really wanted.

"Well, stranger, go on. If you're gonna pretend to be able to read minds I'll let you go ahead and answer my questions. There's a cookie in it if you get them in order, too."

As the strange cape began to chuckle, Taylor had to let out a groan.

'A Thinker. And she was cute.'

"Why thank you~" Taylor flushed, trying desperately to ignore the teasing. "But don't worry. I'm not actually on duty right now."

"Bullshit." She deadpanned. There was just no way that a Thinker that could pass for a mind reader wouldn't take advantage of it while off duty. She certainly wasn't at any risk of being outed by her own powers and walking around in her civilian identity gave her the perfect disguise to sneak around and spy on people.

Taylor narrowed her eyes, focusing on her nearby swarms and nearly cursed aloud. It just was her luck that her swarms would be so far away when she needed them the most. What a rookie mistake. Still, Taylor sent out a general order to begin to converge. Based on her previous experience, she'd have about half her total swarm, about three thousand insects, on hand within ten minutes. More than enough time for her to be kidnapped or worse.

It wasn't likely that the blond would do anything to her, but she would be ready just in case. This was Brockton mother fucking Bay. They had a dragon, armed nazis, and a chick who occasionally exploded people for pissing her off.

"'Tsk'. You really shouldn't be so hard on yourself. You've had your powers for, what, a month?"

'A week and a half, actually.' Taylor thought but kept quiet. No need to tell the supposed psychic more about herself.

"Names first then. I'm Taylor." She held her hand out, a simple shake, but a gesture of respect. Taylor wasn't stupid enough to think that would stop the Thinker from doing whatever she wanted to do, but the girl didn't have the look of a killer or even thug about her. The girl more seemed like a diplomat or someone who issued their boss's orders and let the muscle handle it.

So maybe this would count for something.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Hmm. I suppose it would be polite. And I am trying to be nice…."

Eyes widening slightly, Taylor tensed.

"Hah. Got yah. My name's Lisa."

Lisa stuck her hand out, as far as the bus seat would allow. Taylor, with years of manners ingrained in her, warily shook back.

Taylor analysed the hand shake as best she could. Lisa had a firm grip. Not a crushing one, but one that spoke of respect. And there were slight callouses. That's good. It meant she actually used her hands. But she wasn't trying to crush Taylor's hand either. That was very good. It meant she didn't handle weapons very often and the girl was actually being polite.

While she wasn't even close to the expert her new acquaintance was at reading her people, Taylor had gotten very observant. And she'd always paid attention to how her father interacted with both his subordinates and those he was negotiating with. At least, during the few times she'd been able to watch him work.

Lisa spoke up. "So, now that I've passed muster, I'll go ahead and confirm it for you. I am a Thinker. Not a Master, so don't worry about it, ok?"

It was Taylor's turn to give the other girl a questioning look. And, to her later chagrin, she was unable to keep the bleeding sarcasm from her voice.

"This entire discussion has, quite impressively, illustrated how positively terrifying Thinkers are. Now, you were going to answer those questions?"

"'Snort' No, I think you wanted me to just ramble until the bus came to a stop, but since you asked so nicely. And because you're cute. I'll answer. First off, I'm a minor rogue. In both senses of the word minor. I kinda have a boss, but he is a bit of an asshole. Let me go ahead and stop you there, though. Don't worry about him coming after you. I'm not here on orders so your secret is safe with me."

Taylor wasn't so sure on the safe part but she was willing to assume she wasn't being targeted. Yet. But then it struck her.

"You were watching me?! For how long?!" She asked indignantly. How hadn't she noticed the blond was following her around?

If the self-declared rogue was a cat, she'd be a grey and white Tom. The shit eating grin she was wearing was more than enough proof.

"Oh. For a little while." Lisa dropped her smile. "I was able to follow you for about twenty minutes. Now, I have training and a few advantages. But I would strongly advise you to pay a bit more attention. Or, if I'm reading you right, put some of your swarm on overwatch."

Taylor's hot indignation turned to icy cold fear. Her one advantage as a new cape was that people wouldn't know what her powers actually did, giving her the surprise element in the first few engagings. It was chilling to have that advantage firmly stripped by someone she had known for all of five minutes.

Did the twenty minutes she was being watched count?

"No they don't." Lisa supplied with a smile.

"Nobody asked, Lisa." She grumbled.

That got a small laugh out of her new...friend….acquaintance...stalker? God this was not how she was hoping her afternoon would go. Still, she could at least make the most of this opportunity.

"Do you have any other advice?"

"I have one piece, yes. It is pretty simple but no less important so listen up. As you may have noticed, Brockton Bay is not exactly the safest place..."

"No shit, Sherlock." Taylor snarked, getting an annoyed huff from Lisa.

"You aren't listening. This is very important. Brockton Bay is a powder keg waiting for a spark. In order to survive here you will need back up, newbie. People that you can trust to have your back. Someone who won't be slitting your throat when you sleep."

Taylor bristled.

"No thank you. I think I can manage on my own." There was just no way she was joining up with any of the gangs and the PRT was already out for a whole slew of reasons.

Lisa's eyes narrowed at her. She was serious.

"No, you can't."

The air between the two got heavy, a sudden clash of wills between individuals that stubbornly refused to back down. Truly, had there been any more passengers inside they would have noted a definite drop in temperature.

"I've seen other newbies like you, who thought they were hot stuff at the beginning, thinking that as long as they were careful they would be able to avoid any trouble. Believe me, I was like that at the start too." Her eyes never left Taylor's, the staring contest uninterrupted. "The fact of the matter is that Brockton Bay has no place for cocky teens trying to play vigilante, so you should consider your choices very well before someone decides to make them for you. Hell, I'm not even from Brockton Bay and it still fucked me up."

Taylor noted that there was a definite note of resentment in her voice, if not wistfulness. There was obviously some kind of story behind that but she didn't think prying would be polite or smart.

In the end, Taylor broke first. "Alright, alright. I give. You're trying to help me. But I promise you, I really, really don't intend to do anything for maybe six months. At the soonest. And my power, well, it ramps up over time. So thanks. But no thanks."

"Hmmph. I suppose it would be a bad idea to push this. But, please, at least think about joining the Wards for a few months." Lisa took a moment looked Taylor in the eyes and, in a solemn voice, spoke very slowly. "Being a cape is already risky. Being a cape in a place like this is a death sentence for most and those aren't even the worst possibilities, just look at Heartbreaker. Throw in your lack of experience, the fact your power isn't related to physical strength, and, well, I don't really want to have to spell it out."

Grimacing, Taylor slowly nodded. Her intended response, though, was stopped by the squealing of brakes. Lisa looked up, noticed where they were, and stood up.

"This is your stop, I think. You're going to get shoes, right?"

Taylor just snorted at Lisa's ability to know way too much. She could already tell the girl enjoyed doing that. "Yeah. So, will I ever see you again?'

Lisa fluttered her eyes. "Oh my, should I fear for my virtue? Oh, surely you wouldn't be cruel as to gobble up your newest friend?"

" Lisa…" She groaned, but regained her composure "Thank you. For the advice, I mean. Take care, ok?"

Grinning, Lisa couldn't resist a quip. "No promises! That said, take this. Just try not to call me during the week if you can help it? My boss lets me out on the weekends. But I'm basically on call during the work week."

Looking down, Taylor realized she'd just been given a small slip of paper with a phone number on it. The area code wasn't local, something like a Massachusetts number.

"A burner phone, I take it?"

Lisa snorted a laugh.

"Of course. I keep the SIM card, but swap the body every couple of weeks. Text me if you want to meet up though. And it really was nice meeting you Taylor."

"Yeah. It was nice meeting you too Lisa. Don't worry, I will give your advice some serious consideration, just give me some time. I'll give you a call, though. Doubly so if I change my mind about that team up you suggested." Taylor gave her an awkward smile.

Lisa gave her a smirk and waved her goodbye.

Taylor just shook her head and walked off the bus. Her new friend was possibly crazy, way too much of a know it all, and something of a stalker. But, it was nice having a friend again. "Man, my standards have dropped like a freaking rock."

She wasn't complaining though.

It did help improve her mood that now she could finally get the morning done with. And there was no better way to go about it than a quick visit to the Boardwalk.

No homicidal schoolmates, no psychics, just her and a collection of the fanciest buildings the city could afford.

After living at the Bay for so long, one would expect the local tourist trap to have lost its luster after a while. After all there were only so many times one could visit the same old stores and get extorted out of your money by them. The Boardwalk was different though. For one it was one of the nicest places around, cleanest too.

It stood in stark contrast to the normally filthy streets and cheap stores, making it seem like an entirely different city. It was also safer up to a certain point. The mayor couldn't have the main tourist attraction ruined by drug pushers and the other charming elements of their fine city. That meant the semi-regular patrols by Wards and normal police, combined with the very large thugs cum guards hired by the various stall owners and stores meant that, normally, there was very little obvious crime here. Even pickpockets were hesitant to steal anything, since more than one had, had their legs broken and then been thrown in the Bay.

Yes, she was being sarcastic. Not about the legs thing. Brockton Bay was a shithole.

But this whole place was a pretty distraction from the cesspool that comprised most of the city.

And she also happened to spy a sign that said they were having a sale. Used clothes and shoes, up to seventy five percent off.

'Well now, a sale and a friend. Today may just be my lucky day after all.'

Taylor mentally snorted at the idea. One didn't just have lucky days in the Bay. As she walked into the shop she just hoped she wouldn't end up getting shot on her way home.

 **[Two Hours later]**

Adjusting the bags in her hands Taylor considered what she'd managed to get out of that store. With a bit of creative thinking she'd managed to get three shirts, all basically new, a pair of shoes, and a pair of jeans for less than twenty bucks. And the jeans only had a series of small tears that would be more than easily fixed with a quick bit of needlework, too!

Walking back towards the bus stop, Taylor had about two seconds warning from her now reformed swarm, just about five thousand of her six thousand total insects, that shit was hitting the fan.

Of course, the sounds of breaking glass and screaming would have told her that, too.

Looking down the storefronts, Taylor quickly hid behind a stall as people came running towards her in droves. She snuck a peak from behind a mannequin and fought down the urge to curse like a sailor when she saw just who had decided to crash her shopping spree.

Disheveled clothes.

An awful smell that could be felt down the street.

Rotten teeth and hygiene akin to that of a sewer rat's.

"The Merchants" Taylor growled.

Of course it would be them. Nobody else was stupid enough to attack a public place, let alone the Boardwalk, in broad daylight.

Looking over her shoulder, Taylor saw that the store clerks had finally noticed that they were being attacked before joining the rest of the stampede. Taylor couldn't blame them as she was just about to do the same when a flicker of movement caught her attention.

Shit! Too late to run.

Lumbering like a zombie down the road, she could spot two merchants stumbling around. The rest was either vandalizing the stores, stealing from them, or doing those two things at once. These two, however, had decided to start kicking at an older man.

He'd seem to have fallen to the ground and was stuck. So, Taylor did the first thing she could think of. She sent her swarm to fuck up a bunch of junkies.

With a flexing of a mental command the pair of disoriented, and therefore poorly coordinated, meth heads now faced a bit over five thousand biting insects. And while normally it would take about a thousand bee stings to put someone in a life threatening state, and nearly two thousand to kill a person out right, these critters were far more vicious than normal bees.

Mama was so proud of them.

So, ignoring the extremely unpleasant sensations of some of her children being crushed, and fuck did that piss her the fuck off, she used the bugs to drive the two men away, only calling her children back once they junkies had fallen to the ground and were whimpering, desperately trying to protect their faces.

Reaching the old man, her bags left behind, Taylor rolled him over, hoping that she had gotten to him in time. His chest was still and, from the large and obvious contusions on his head, he was dead. Hands shaking, Taylor stood up, ready to run back to the store and take cover until the PRT, or at least the police, managed to quell the riot, she heard the breaking of glass and a scream.

The Merchants had surrounded one store front, it's hired security spilling his life's blood on the ground from a couple dozen stab wounds.

One of the thugs, still holding a lighter, had thrown a molotov cocktail through the storefront while the rest of criminals cheered and hooted. Taylor, desperate to help the half dozen or so people trapped behind a visibly growing mass of flame, sent out her swarm once again. As they made their way towards their target, she ducked behind a stall, bent over, put her hands on her knees, and turned her churning hive onto the max.

What came out was a veritable deluge of purple slime-vomit. After long seconds of panting and heaving she stopped. What crawled from the mass was easily four or five thousand more creatures, the pressure of their existence making her head feel like a single massive bruise.

Still, combined with the original swarm, they were enough to dissuade the now screaming Merchants of their siege. And, as they retreated, cursing and screaming their heads off, Taylor made her way to the front of the building.

Taylor picked up a ratty scarf from the stall, tying it around her face as she ran to their rescue with a slight stumble, still weak from spawning the newest swarm.

By now, the fire had grown large enough to block off most of the front, but, with furtive gestures, Taylor communicated that the group inside should back away from the door. With a final mental push Taylor sent all of her swarm, individually insignificant in mass, at the obstruction at once.

With their combined force they managed to bust down the front door, crushing the smoldering flames in front of it, and, with quick action from four of the six individuals inside, they managed to put out a corridor of flames long enough for the group to get outside.

As soon as they were safe, Taylor turned to run, fully intending on getting as far away as she possibly could. It was then that she heard heard a loud bang and felt something punch her in back, just to the right of her kidneys.

Stumbling, she continued to run, recognizing the sound as a gunshot and hearing more being fired.

After a few seconds of blind panic she stumbled again, not having been hit by anything this time, and fell.

She tried to stand up, but couldn't.

Delirious, she ordered her swarm to go home and wait for her, hoping that the Merchants might leave if the swarm left as well.

On her hands and knees she tried to crawl over to a stall.

But, after only a few feet, she fell to the ground.

As her vision faded, Taylor saw shapes moving in front of her. Desperate, she tried to reach out of them. But before she could even make out their faces everything went black.


	4. Chapter 3

**AN: Well, this is a bit awkward. As well as a teensy bit late on our part. Still, the show must go on and what better way to get the weekend started than with a new chapter of Sasori?**

 **Alvor: Meh. It's, more or less, Friday. Still, I hope this chapter answers any lingering questions about this AU.**

 **Wyvern: Oh yeah, we kept you guys wondering for a good long while about the direction this story was gonna go, so I hope you find this path interesting and enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it. Also, we will be changing the Rating of this story from T to M, just letting you guys know.**

 **Alvor: I'm an edge lord (not really). So just blame it on me (Crimson is solely responsible for anything you guys dislike).**

 **Wyvern: Why do I feel like I am being mocked?**

 **Alvor: Who knows? Anyways, I really do hope you guys like the chapter!**

Chapter 3: Of Princesses and Paupers

 **[In an undisclosed location]**

With a loud popping of her back Taylor groaned. Her entire chest felt like one giant bruise. "Fuck. Getting shot sucks."

"'Snort' It sure does little girl. You stay there, don't do nothing stupid, I'll go get the Lady."

She watched a large black man walk out. Her eyes opened to just slits, trying to stave off the already impending migraine she could feel starting. Not that it would really help, taking into account just how screwed she was likely to be.

It was one thing to take a shot helping a bunch of civilians out of a burning building. The PRT had made a show of flying in healers to patch up rogues who'd been winged before. Good for the public relations, really. And stopping someone from dying or being crippled went a long way to recruiting them.

Now, one might ask, how does one go from bleeding on the sidewalk to being handcuffed to a very expensive and fancy hospital bed?

Taylor admitted that even for a place as insane as Brockton Bay that was a hell of a change; not that it made her feel any better about it.

'knock knock'

Jolting, her head snapped around to face a large pair of double doors. Now that she was starting to look around, aside from the hospital bed, everything else was extremely expensive-looking and heavily ornamented. Taylor was actually confused as to how to process everything and why did they go through all the problem of getting a hospital bed of all things. There was just no way the PRT had nabbed her and the gangs would have just put a bullet in her head.

"I've knocked, and my man says you're awake, so I'm coming in."

As the door swung open, Taylor eyes bugged out of her head. Swallowing, her dry-as-a-bone throat not cooperating, as she realized who just stepped inside.

Standing about 5'6 feet, relatively tall for a girl. She was dressed in a large, flowery dress, utterly drowned in lace. A tall backed corset sat on a perfectly shaped waist. And while none of her chest was exposed, the whole thing made her look rather well endowed. Somehow completing the look was a simple domino mask perched atop her nose. Taylor totally wasn't jealous the girl was pulling off the hourglass figure.

Still, her captor really pulled off the semi-victorian look. It was also hard to tell just how old she was due to her face being covered. Not that mattered much, as, well, everyone knew about the Striker. The Lady had, as befit a gang lord with a small hill of bodies, a certain aura of command. But for Taylor, the half dozen men and women standing behind her exaggerated it a bit.

Again, totally not jealous.

"Well. Are you going to kill me?"

The Lady cocked an eyebrow, barely noticable to her considering Taylor was on her back and had to crane her neck, just a part of power play bullshit, just to look up.

It was, as Taylor feared, going to be a trial not to get herself killed through snark.

"So, you're going to bore me to death. You knocked, you opened the door, and now you're just staring at me."

All six of the men turned to look at their boss. "Ok. Enough of that. That's way too creepy. So. Not gonna kill me. Are you going to torture me then? Nothi-"

"I'm strongly considering it."

Taylor shut her mouth so fast her teeth made an audible click.

The Lady walked forward, slowly running her hand along the edge of the bed as she walked forward.

"I've made a man cook and eat his own testicles for talking to me like that before. Barney, chair."

With a flourish, she sat backwards as, quite rapidly, Barney, the large black man who'd been waiting for Taylor to wake up, grabbed a nearby chair and positioned it under his mid-sit boss.

"So, yes, my dear, I'm considering scrambling all your nerves and then have my men poke you until we figure out what went where. Now, I can tell, even without touching you, that you're very afraid and rightfully so. But considering what you managed to accomplish, I'm inclined to show you a touch of leniency. Understood? You may nod your head"

Without hesitation, Taylor did so.

"Good. I'm glad we managed to clear that up early. Now we can get to important part. Namely, settling your debt."

That brought Taylor up short. Debt?

"Oh yes dear. You see, you saved the lives of some of my men earlier in the day. That means I owed you one. Them dragging you away from your inevitable execution at the hands of the swiftly reforming Merchants settled our debt. Unfortunately, for your clothes at least, you were bleeding quite profusely. So I had to patch you up. Ergo, you now owe me one. So that will be five hundred thousand dollars, cash, cashiers check, or equivalent valuables please."

Taylor could have fainted when the value registered in her still gawking mind. There was absolutely no way she would be able to pay something like that.

She knew it, and by the smug smile on that woman's face, so did she.

The teenage girl felt a burst of anger replace the shock. Was this what she got for going out of her way to help? Basically being kidnapped by gangsters and told she now owed them money!?

"Oh, and before you get any cute ideas about using that wonderful organ of yours I feel I should tell you that, even assuming you kill me before any of my six men riddle you with bullets, you've got a fatal blood clot nocking about your brain. Hmm. I'd say you'll need to get that fixed in a week or so. Maybe two, if you're lucky."

There was no stopping the snarl that tore from Taylor's lips. Internally, her already depleted body began to slowly cannibalize any traces of body fat it could find, more than ready to sire a swarm that would make Scion crap his magic underwear.

Who did this woman think she was to mess around with her body like that?!

Oh who was she kidding. She knew exactly who the little princess-wannabe was.

The Lady. The psychotic daughter of Marquis, the Bitch Queen of Downtown, and the girl who, at no more than ten years old, had turned her would be kidnappers into living bombs and used them to level half of the E88s headquarters for shits and giggles. The internet was riddled with gruesome tales about her deeds yet Taylor had often dismissed them as fabrications, boogeyman stories to scare people who didn't know any better.

She was the Striker 10 and the only thing that kept her from getting slapped with a kill order was the fact she healed anyone who fought an Endbringer pro bono. Admittedly heroic, on the surface. Far less so when you realized most capes actively refused to let her touch them, something that was a mild national issue already with Striker healers, when it was revealed she could very much play with brains. As it stood, the only reason she hadn't been offed at this point had more to do with the fact that the PRT's thinker were 85% sure the Lady couldn't brainwash people with a touch.

And now here she was, at the mercy of The Gentry's heiress. And OH FUCK she'd been SNARKY to this psycho!

As if sensing her distress, the Lady smiled beatifically at her. Slowly, just long enough for the tension to spike so hard Taylor felt ice water in her veins, the masked psychopath lifted her hand and gently stroked Taylor's cheek. Flesh on flesh. The tips of her nails scraping ever so slightly against her skin; like claws, eager to tear into her.

"Shh. Shh. Don't worry, it'll be ok. If you die, that's bad for business. And that little organ of yours is just so interesting. I couldn't bare to lose that too. Of course, I do want to make my money back. So tell yah what? We can just go straight to the special plan. That's for poor people who really need to make some money or the truly desperate."

Shuddering, Taylor barely held back the wave of bile in her throat, desperately trying not to vomit. Whether it was the normal kind or the purple gunk that came with her bugs, she had no idea. But the stomach acid was burning her uvula.

The Lady's smile was coy. Alarmingly so.

"Here is what we're going to do. I'm going to have Barney go drag a hunk of beef in here. And then I'm going to pop you open. I'll split your skin right from the top of your collarbone all the way down to your legs. And don't worry, we're not monsters! I'll personally make sure no one peeks. Anyways, I'll slip in there and pluck out all your juicy little organs, and maybe one or two of your adorable little mutant lungs, and I'll put them in those cute little storage containers over there. Can you see them? They're the ones with the frills! I designed them myself."

Peace. Taylor was at peace. She'd had enough. Right after triggering she'd been scared. But that was nothing. Getting shot was bad, but that was a freaking walk in the park in the end. This, being in the hands of a monster like this, was too much. So she just checked out.

But as her luck would have it, there was no escaping her waking nightmare. Because just as her ability to care was about to leave the building she felt something jolt her awake, as if a switch had been flipped, and snapped her back into focus.

She, disoriented and barely cognizant, looked up a the mad-woman standing over her.

"Oh! Looks like she's lighting up! Well done my little pet, you've actually managed to last longer than most. Hmm. It looks like your trigger is actually messing with your spine more than lung. Of course, that could be because I'm actively blocking your expansion, what some folks call a 'second trigger', from moving beyond your Gemma. Don't worry though, there won't be any real repercussions from this. Well, none that'll physically hurt you. Interesting. How interesting. Not a Case 53, but these are still some very impressive physical mutations."

Her nails were drawing blood now. Four little lines of red, slowly trailing down Taylor's cheek to pool on the side of her head. The Lady's eyes had gone distant, her six bodyguards not so much as flinching the entire time, and her fingers had pushed, painfully, into the side of Taylor's jaw and even now ground against the bone.

Taylor didn't so much as flinch. She simply stared right back into the eyes above her. What she saw terrified and amazed her, if only that someone could be so warped. Pure, unadulterated glee danced in front of her, this mad woman even beginning to blush and pant slightly. With a sudden cry, the Lady brought her other hand up and grabbed both sides of Taylor's face.

"So close. I was so close. I know something is there, just beyond the limit. I can touch it."

As suddenly as the strange passion came it was gone.

"Oh well. I suppose there's always next time." With strange circular motions, she pulled what looked like long, ropey strands of some strange black fiber from the sides of Taylor's neck.

"Don't worry darling, these are just a few mutations from me suppressing your expansion. A lot of physical powers cause something similar. As far as I can tell it's hyper efficient nerve tissue, real useful stuff. Anyways, I'll pop you open, dig around a bit, use the hunk of beef to keep you nice and healthy, I'll even throw in a full healing with it standard, and we'll give you fair value for your organs. About a third their market value. So, hmm. For mouthing off and to cover the five hundred large. I'd say we could get it done in about six hours? How's that sound pet?"

Thinking about it, Taylor realized one thing. Playing the Lady's game would end up with her dead. No questions. That, or used as a source of material for the psycho's insane desires. So she decided to just do what she did best.

"Ok. Do you want me to strip down first? The clothes I'm wearing are pretty bloodstained, so it can't be sanitary. While we're at it, can I shower first?"

The Lady blinked.

"Just like that?"

Nodding, Taylor continued. "Well, yeah. I owe you money, you fucked around with my head. Why wouldn't I want to get this dealt with today. You get your fee and I get to not die. Fair trade, yeah?"

The Lady snorted in dismissal and stood up, flaking off some dried blood from Taylor's still slowly bleeding face.

"No such luck for you today. I think I'd much prefer to keep someone with something so unbelievably interesting in their head and in their chest around. Besides, you're a cape, Pet. And since I found you first, I own you now."

Waving her hands, the Lady shooed her guards out ahead of her.

"There's a change of clothes, should fit you well enough, in one of the lockers. I'm sending a female guard along. When she gets here put them on and we'll hammer out the details of how you're going to pay me."

Without a backwards look the Lady strode through the ornate double doors in front of her. Taylor leaned over the side of her bed, still locked in the cuffs, and violently upchucked.

Doing her best to best to wipe her face on the side of the hospital bed farthest from her, Taylor rolled over as much as she could.

"Fuck my life."

 **[Twenty minutes later]**

With a slight groan, her entire chest was still bruised, Taylor pushed open the heavy double doors in front of her. It struck her as strange that a well known villain would leave her unattended with just a maid. Then again, the earlier conversation proved that the Lady did indeed hold all the cards, having very nearly rearranged her insides on a whim.

Then there was the supposed clot inside her head, which she had no way of checking if it really existed. She wouldn't put it below the woman to lie about it just to get some giggles out of seeing her stress about it.

Afterall, that psycho had pushed her to go through a second trigger just to pull something out of her neck.

Idly, Taylor rubbed the back and sides of her throat. She couldn't feel so much as a bump.

Of course, her erstwhile boss had left the small scratches on Taylor's cheek.

'The bitch didn't even finish fixing what she fucked up. No way in hell this was worth five hundred grand. And her terrible bedside manner was just….thrilling.' It wouldn't surprise her one bit if the value of the Lady's services wasn't completely overblown. 'Hell. Wonder if I can report her to the Better Business Bureau.'

"Good. You're up. The Boss has been waiting. You do not keep the boss waiting in the future."

'And there's the aggro bitch.'

With the mental equivalent of a pair of rolled eyes, Taylor just snorted and ignored her would be guard. The cunt had come in after leaving Taylor to stew with the taste of vomit in her mouth for about five minutes. And then, after shooting her a dirty look and undoing her handcuffs, threw a change of clothes at her, including underwear, and then eyed her like a goddamned piece of meat.

'What the fuck is up with me pulling all the psycho lesbians today? "snort" Maybe I should introduce them to Hess! Ah. Gotta keep my spirits up. What with my impending death and the fact a gang lord is currently holding me against my will….Fuck my life.'

She was saying that a lot today.

Fortunately...or unfortunately, they soon arrived at another ornate door, this one with a small plaque hanging at the front saying 'Study'. Taylor wondered for a moment just how big the building she was at was if it needed individual doors to be marked.

Was her borrowed room called 'Guest room' or 'Dungeon'? She forgot to check.

The maid pushed open the door and waved her in, giving her a glare that spoke just how bad it would be to try and walk away. Not that it would do her any good. Time bomb in her head.

Inside, the room was….gratuitously utilitarian. The walks were concrete, there was a small computer in the back, an uncushioned chair, and, aside from a metal desk and a spinning chair that that the Lady was sitting in, the room was populated by a filing cabinet and a calendar with a small kitten on it.

Standing there was still a bitch and a half. But what else was she gonna do?

After a few minutes of listening to the Lady's pen scratch Taylor started to think about Lisa. Her kind of sorta stalker/friend. The girl had basically told her this was gonna happen. And wasn't that a kick in the crotch? She'd basically been told this was the likely thing and Taylor had still gone and gotten herself shot. Still, maybe she won a friend or two with the people she'd saved?

The funny thing was that aside from being shot and then threatened with disembowelment after being kidnapped, Taylor felt like she would have done it all over again. Sure she would be smarter about it, perhaps by not jumping the two closest mooks on sight. But all things considered, she was happy that she managed to help.

Now if only that could help her get out of this mess.

"So, Pet, go on and take a seat."

The Lady hadn't even looked up at her, but, as she signed something with a flourish, had clearly finished the last piece of paperwork for now. After stamping it and sliding it inside a manilla envelope with what looked like a dozen or so spread sheets the still incredibly overly dressed girl yanked open a drawer on the cabinet and dropped it near the front. Taylor sat without comment.

"First, welcome to my humble abode, my sweetling. Secondly, let's discuss the rules. I'm going to treat you like the young woman I know you are and I won't patronize you. Too much at least. So the obvious bit. If you snitch, you drop dead from 'natural causes'. If you lead the PRT to my hideout, I turn you inside out. If you steal from me, lie, screw me over, or try and betray me in any way, I….?"

"Turn me inside out."

"Good. You've gotten the low down on what I expect from you with regards to your behavior, half of what the Gentry expects from its vassals. As for me, well, nominally I'm your equal. Marquis, my old man if you didn't know, runs the gang. However, I very much own you. I'll make sure you're fed, clothed, shoed, and housed, not to mention trained and equipped, but when I tell you to jump, you don't even ask how high, you just start hopping."

Stomach turning again, Taylor nodded her understanding.

"Very well, that's the stick, here's the carrot. I make a hell of a lot of money and I'm not stupid, as such, I pay extremely well. Anyone offers you a bribe, come to me, I'll double it. You'll get paid per job, different jobs make different amounts, obviously, but even courier work, where you'll be starting next week, pays very well. Considering you owe me so much, call it an even million now, you'll be on double shifts and half pay. That is, half of what you would make will go straight to your debt. What you do with the rest is your own business. However, as you show an aptitude for not bleeding out long enough for me to heal you, I'm considering you for surveillance and body guard work. We'll see. To top it all off, you're part of the Gentry now. You'll get a tattoo after your first kill, I'll take you get it then, and all our services are now available to you at the employee's rate. Drugs, booze, cigarettes, guns, ass, whatever the hell you want. All I ask is that you come to work sober, don't kill any of my employees, and you don't get too addicted to anything. Other than that, have fun. Now, go see Barney. He's got your schedule, and he'll be the man responsible for your basic training."

Knowing the clear dismal was very much an order to get the fuck out and stop wasting her time, Taylor, with only a small grunt of pain, stood up to leave. Making it as far as the door, the Lady spoke up and stopped her.

"Oh, Taylor, one last thing."

Turning around, she was surprised when the female cape had stood up and, with a sway in her hips, was walking towards her. Wide eyed, Taylor began to slowly back up; having zero desire to be subjected to another bout of brain rape. Unfortunately, the office was rather small and she quickly hit the back wall. With a salacious leer on her face, the Lady, on tiptoe, ran her tongue along the slightly bloody scratches she'd left on Taylors face. With a gasp of surprise, Taylor felt the bruises along her body vanish and her cheek stop hurting.

"Don't be a stranger."

In her hands was a very expensive looking cellphone. Scared and confused, Taylor took it and left without saying another word; the Lady's laughter echoing behind her.

In something of a panicked daze she moved towards one of the few people she'd actually come to recognize.

"You're Barney right?"

He was a tall black man, easily 6' 2", maybe three hundred and twenty pounds.

"Mmhmm. Boss lady said you're gone be working with us for a while at least. Here's your schedule." He offered her a folded paper, which she took with a muttered thanks. "Now, you gone need to come in next week, Monday at eleven would be best. That gives you three days to get everything sorted out. I strongly advise you decide how much you gone tell your family. So long as they ain't stupid, feel free to let them know you workin' for us now."

The two of them stood in awkward silence for a few seconds. The man, Barney, looked uncomfortable for some reason, as if trying to find the right words to say. Finally he seemed to settle down and let out a sigh of frustration.

"Listen, since you're a cape you'll have to run through basic training, only for a week or two; but the Boss tends to be pretty hands on with that. The details are on the schedule so don't lose it."

She nodded again, feeling lost and uncertain, so she simply stared dumbly at him before pocketing the schedule as well as the twenty bucks.

"There's a bus stop out the door and to your right. It'll be half a block down. You just go wait there and go home. Eat a big meal if you can keep it down, getting healed and messed with like that takes it out of yah. Also..."

He suddenly reached for her. She nearly jumped back but calmed down when he just pat her on the shoulder.

" I...I just wanted to personally thank you for saving my life earlier today. Burning to death isn't exactly how I wanted to go so thank you, really."

She started. That's right. She'd saved the lives of six people today. If nothing else, Taylor could grab onto that thought with both hands. When something bad had happened, when it was time to save lives, she'd actually managed to do so. She'd leapt into action and stopped a bunch of merchants from doing more damage than they already had.

Taylor didn't smile. The shock of it all was still too much. But, there was enough there for her to flash a quick grimace at the large, smiling man before her.

"Thanks for that Barney. You're welcome. And call me Taylor by the way. I assume the Lady's just gonna call me pet from now on?"

With a small frown Barney nodded. "I've been with that girl since she was eleven. She's been gettin' real bad recently. Sorry you had to go through all that. But yeah. Oh, and make sure you're ready to do a lot of writing when you get here later on. We'll need yah to fill out a bunch of stuff. For our records, mostly. But some of it is to make sure that we know where to go to protect your family if a gang war starts out. You capes are a lot more valuable than a grunt or even a lieutenant. So don't worry too much. Once you come into your own she'll back off. It's mostly because you're a new girl is all."

Giving one last nod Taylor thanked the large man for his kind words and said goodbye. Fifteen minutes later she was on a bus and making her way home. Within the hour, just shy of three o'clock, Taylor had brushed her teeth, showered, and changed into her pajamas. Sitting on the couch, with all the doors and windows locked and bolted, she turned the TV onto the local news, entirely about what happened at the docks, pulled her knees to her chest, and then she cried.

Taylor Hebert just lay there and cried and cried and cried until she fell asleep.

 **[Location - The Rig]**

Emily Piggot frowned. Today had been both very unpleasant and very constructive.

The Merchants, damned junkie psychos, had carried a series of attacks, five in total, against targets throughout the city. Right now she had about forty civilians, half a dozen cops, and one cape dead, wounded, or missing. Thankfully, the cape was a rogue and completely unknown. That meant the PRT wouldn't be catching any flak for not saving her.

Unfortunately, the cape in question, a young female between fourteen and sixteen years of age, had been killed shortly after saving a group of civilians. As such, the unknown child was being turned into a martyr.

This meant Brockton Bay was one step closer to being declared Quarantine Zone Eight.

However, PRT E/NE wouldn't be dying today. Emily, after threatening, bribing, and begging a dozen of her colleagues , had managed to negotiate for a group of seven capes, three veteran wards, and two companies of national guardsmen to be shipped to her. Normally she'd just be rebuffed like she always was. But after all the crap that had gone down earlier in the afternoon she'd gotten a call from the state Governor telling her to put the Merchants in jail or in the ground. Piggot was given the impression he'd have much preferred the latter.

The guardsmen's primary duties would be centered around training the police to use the MRAPs they'd be getting soon. But the guardsmen were, officially, seconded to her command. Meaning she finally had some actual fire power to back up her officers. Afterall, containment foam only did so much. And a .50 cal could do a lot of damage to an uncooperative cape.

And the capes, those were golden. She'd gotten four Brutes, two of which were Alexandria packages, a Master, a Stranger, one power nullifying Trump, her bodyguard Mover/Striker, and a pair of Grab Bags who just so happened to be former military. All ten capes had been specifically chosen for their discipline and willingness to do what needed to be done.

After all, she didn't need anyone who'd be easily pushed around on her team when she had people Shadow Stalker working under her. That idiot child had almost gotten half of her wards to quit. The brat thought she was some kind of super predator.

Emily snorted. The idiot girl wouldn't have lasted ten minutes in Ellisburg.

Before the director could ruminate on the follies of super powered youth, she was interrupted by, perhaps, her favorite cape.

"Director. All of the new capes have settled in. Due to the situation the city is in, the Wards are on mandatory base duty and training. The new capes are already being assigned to teams and patrol groups. There have been no other altercations aside from the earlier fight between Shadow Stalker and Gallant."

"Good job Armsmaster. As it stands, I'm counting on you to keep these teams active and moving. Miss Militia can be a soldier, but she's too soft. So do what needs to be done to keep as many of our people alive and as intact as possible. Am I clear?"

The tall blue, armored man nodded. "Crystal. One question, if I may?"

And that's why Piggot loved the man. Direct and to the point. "You may."

"What do we intend to do about Martyr?"

Piggot, with a small frown on her face, answered. "The usual press release, I assume. Why, is there anything special I don't know?"

Armsmaster's mouth, the only visible part of his face, tightened momentarily. "I assume you haven't finished reading the AARs?"

She shook her head. "No, I've finished the first three, but I had to deal with the other directors before I finished the fourth."

It was Armsmaster's turn to nod. "Dragon finished her analysis of the fight at the Boardwalk. Even though the video of the event was from a cell phone and partially corrupted, she has confirmed that Martyr was removed from the scene and was alive, thought severely wounded, at the time. It is likely that the girl was alive for a time, and, considering we haven't found any bodies that would match the profile, still is. We may have an active Master in the city. What's more, based on limited facial recognition scans, it's entirely possible she was recovered by the Gentry. The Lady in particular."

Piggot picked up her coffee and slowly sipped it. After thirty seconds of digesting the information she came to a decision. "Officially, we don't know this, correct?"

"Correct, mam."

The answer was abrupt but what she wanted to hear.

"Good. Then make sure this doesn't come out until we want it out. For now, we're on M/S protocol, level 1. Make sure we run standard checks and watch for unusual behavior. If nothing else, I intend to use this….opportunity to finally purge this office of traitors. Now, let's go inspect the troops."

Armsmaster snapped to attention and watched as the director stood up. She was short, but well muscled. The woman was still known as "the Boarhound" from her time as a field agent. A few years back, right after Ellisburg, she was in a bad way. But after being appointed to Brockton Bay she was able to get a parahuman to heal her.

Personally, he didn't think she really needed her kidneys or her legs back. As it was, this small woman in front of him had managed to reign in four of the worst gangs in the country, manage an entirely un supervised affiliate in the form of the BBB, and had commanded this city like the war it was.

His personal opinion of the previous director, who'd allowed things to degenerate to this state, was as poor as his opinion of Emily Piggot was high.

As such, he had no issue falling in behind her, an unofficial escort, and looking out for her while on base. She had no shortage of enemies and there'd been a full dozen assassination attempts over the years.

Of course, that overlooked the fact that Piggot had handled more than half of those who came after her on her own. There was a very, very good reason she was respected and feared.

But perhaps it was because Brockton Bay was such a harsh battlefield that the former soldier had been able to bounce back as quickly as she did. The idea that another city might meet the same fate as Ellisburg was enough reason for her to get back onto her feet. Granted Brockton wasn't crawling with deadly monsters, but they had one hell of a cape community.

To be fair, the city avoided being quarantined earlier, but that had more to do with the sheer number of hero-capes than anything else.

In the end, Armsmaster was just happy things were finally changing.

The pair marched in silence, Piggot and Armsmaster both getting salutes as they walked past. Piggot made sure to keep her face set in stone, greeting her operatives by name and rank when spoken to. It was good for morale to see their fearsome leader as firm, but still involved enough to care.

More than anything else, Emily knew how much it could suck to be the little guy. So she never minded the extra effort it took to learn names and faces.

It was with a cold glare she set to boring a hole in the elevator doors in front of her. It was time to meet her new Capes and see about finally kicking out some of the scum.

With a ding the door opened and Piggot stomped through. "Capes, group up! Time for your briefing!"

There were a half dozen men and women, all in masks, sitting around a large conference room. Another full dozen individuals trickled in. At their head was a darker skinned woman with a bandana around her mouth. Piggot nodded at her.

"Miss Militia. The rest are out on patrol?"

"Yes mam. However, Gallant and Kid Win were on rest, Shadow Stalker is on console right now, so we brought them along as well. All new parahumans are present, mam."

Piggot gave a slow nod. "Good. Good. Now, everyone, listen up. I hope you've all read your packets, but it's time for the quick and dirty. The Bay is a shithole. We've got more capes, per capita, than anywhere else in North America. There's also more than a few local psychos."

The director threw a folder on the table, multiple photos falling from inside the document to show the many capes of Brockton Bay, from big shots like Kaiser and Lung, to the small time nuisances like Ubër and Leet. Her assembled team took them in carefully, some of them knew that targets by reputation but had never grown interested enough to actually do any research on them.

"These are our enemies, our obstacles. The agents of chaos that have seeded this place with corruption and violence for years on end."

She took the time to look each and every man and woman in the eyes.

"However. For the first time in nearly a decade, we're ready to go on the offensive. The Brockton Bay Brigade have also decided to let their newest generation officially take the field. With your presence, and the additional manpower we've received, the PRT has finally decided to stop servicing the status quo."

She was pacing now. Her thoughts racing with plan after plan pushing their way forward.

"We've got time and the right on our side. All we need to do is strike hard and fast. Keep the pressure on. Our first targets will be the Merchants. However, this is not retaliatory. As it stands, the Bay is teetering on the edge of open war. This will happen. Instead, it's going to come down to how and when it starts. So we're going to steal the momentum. Prepare yourselves. This will not be pleasant. And while you were all chosen because of your experience, none of you have been to the Bay before. Armsmaster and Gallant are both veterans. Trust them. Follow their lead. Stick together and we'll all make it through alive."

Piggot took her seat at the head of the table, her eyes flickering over the many photos before landing on a single, recently taken, one. A blurry shot from what she assumed was a cellphone.

A young woman, her face covered loosely by a strip of cloth, being carried away by two men with blood all over her clothes.

"Let's start with current events. This is Rogue #010418. Cape name, Martyr"


	5. Chapter 4

**AN: Well, this one sure took a bit longer to write. The reason behind the delay can be summarized as "real life sucks and so does college".**

 **Alvor: I tripped over my dog and got sick from some old salmon. So, yay? But I'm better now. So no worries**

 **Wyvern: We do have an important announcement to make though. After going over all previous chapters as well as your reviews, we have decided to go on a small hiatus, two weeks to be exact. During that time we will go do some revisions on past chapters.**

 **Alvor: To be honest, both of us also have a few other ideas we have our eyes on. But don't worry. We both adore Sasori. And we're going to remain committed.**

 **Wyvern: So without further ado, let's get to the new chapter.**

Chapter 4: Picking Yourself Up

 **[Later in the day]**

Taylor had been in a stupor for the most part since she'd gotten back home; having just experienced what in hindsight could be described as the most uncomfortable, pants-shittingly terrifying job interview to be ever conducted. Getting threatened with disembowelment before being basically gang pressed into becoming a lackey to one of the most dangerous capes of Brockton Bay was unequivocally worse than a year of the bullshit Emma put her through.

She had immediately broken down after getting home and cried her heart out for an hour and a half. Then she'd had lunch, eating whatever leftovers were on the fridge before going back to her room. It was a damn good thing she wasn't worried about her figure, with how her power had been making her eat.

By that point she had been exhausted, emotionally and physically, no longer having any tears left to shed. Gallows humor and her wounded, battered sense of justice was all she had left.

Trying to help those people out of the burning store wasn't a mistake. Using her powers with only a flimsy strip of cloth to hide her identity wasn't a mistake. Attacking the members of the most volatile gang of Brockton Bay wasn't mistake.

No. Taylor's mistake was that she was seen.

Her mistake was that she hadn't ran away fast enough.

That her inexperience got her shot by someone she didn't even know because she had turned her back on the enemy like an idiot. Though, being perfectly fair, she didn't really even have a plan for getting away. She had rushed in without thinking.

Everything that happened afterwards, her life being saved by the Gentry and then threatened by The Lady, happened because she wasn't ready. That after going on and on about planning and experimenting with her powers she had jumped head first without thinking things through.

Taylor grit her teeth. Just thinking about that psycho made her feel like punching the wall a couple of times. And, maybe, just a teensy bit, made her regret saving those specific people who happened to be thugs and criminals.

She took a deep breath, calming her nerves as she took a seat in the living room. There was nothing she could have done at that point, tied up to a bed and surrounded by armed thugs as well as within reach of a woman that turned people into dynamite with just her touch. Things could have gone much worse. Especially if she hadn't helped the Lady's apparently favorite bodyguard.

Not like having a clot in your brain wasn't a shitty enough way to repay someone though.

"Okay, so things are pretty shot to Hell." She admitted to herself.

And it wasn't like they couldn't get any worse. The cellphone they had given her was evidence enough. It was a constant reminder that she was now at the beck and call of one of the most dangerous gangs in town after her very first week as a parahuman.

Dad was going to rip her a new asshole if he didn't keel over from a heart attack first.

'Hey dad. Good news; I have a job. Bad news; the Lady owns me now.' Yeah. Not gonna happen.

It wouldn't do for her to just dwell on her newest problem though. She needed a solution, a way out of her predicament. First and foremost, Taylor wanted to be a hero, to help others and make her city a better place. She couldn't do that if she was forced to join a gang; especially one with a psychotic bitch that likes to play around with people's brains.

There was no way she was going to let another little princess of a brat ruin her life. She had enough of that with the Trio. Unfortunately, escaping The Lady wouldn't be as simple as just leaving school. The woman had her on a short leash and likely had even more blackmail than what she showed her.

'Hell, dad's in the yellow pages, isn't he? Considering they went through my wallet, they saw my learners permit. They know my last name, where we live, and that we're those Heberts. Fuck a duck.'

Taylor was in over her head, there wasn't a better way to say it. Well, not one that wouldn't end with her mother coming back to life just to tan her hide with a cooking spoon.

She needed a plan but for that she would need information. And not the kind of stuff she could research on the internet and there was no way she was going to the PRT with this. Not only would she be outing herself as a cape, but there was no way in Hell her new boss wasn't keeping tabs on her. And going to the PRT very much counted as snitching. And Taylor had zero intentions of testing out those 'natural causes'.

Taylor sighed. This was going to be harder than she thought.

"First things first though." She took a deep breath, feeling her 'pouch' compress as she hacked and coughed a small clump of black goo into her hands. It did not take long for a small yet familiar figure to crawl out of it.

"Welcome back, buddy."

T2 buzzed back to life, her presence now fresh in Taylor's mind. There was something comforting about the feeling, maybe it was the way of her powers saying that Taylor would never be alone ever again.

She would have really appreciated if her powers didn't make a mess everytime she had to use them, though. Having to wash her hands and brush her teeth every time she used them was bound to get really boring, really fast.

There was also the fact that most of her swarm had died when she helped rescue those people from the fire. It meant that she would have to go through another marathon of bug-vomiting.

'This just isn't my day.' She sighed, but was surprised when T2 landed on the tip of her nose, buzzing softly.

She smiled lightly, understanding her creation's intent.

"I missed you too, So, what do you say we get this gunk off of us and then watch some cheesy soap operas?" Taylor knew that if someone ever saw talking to an insect they would likely think her crazy, but at this point she really couldn't care less.

The human-bug duo walked, or flew as the case may be, into the bathroom. Taylor didn't feel like taking a bath just yet, but her face felt clammy from all the nervous sweating she did today and her hands were stained with black goo so the least she could do was to freshen up. Maybe that would make her feel better.

She wasn't holding her breath on that one, though.

Now that she was a bit calmer, not to mention cleaner, Taylor could go over her day step by step.

She woke up and prepared breakfast, as per usual.

Gave her father a hug as he left for work and then got ready for her daily walk.

Only things didn't happen as planned. Her father forgot his lunch, forcing her to go deliver it to him all the way at the docks. Not a big change of plans.

Then she had taken the bus to the Boardwalk, planning to go buy some clothes and maybe practice the haggling skills she got from Dad.

Only that didn't go according to plan either.

Not only had she met another cape on the bus, said cape also just happened to be some kind of super Thinker who immediately recognized her. That one had lead to one of the most awkward conversations she'd ever had.

You know, outside of the one that happened later the same day. Of course, personally, as new as she was to it, Taylor really did prefer the too-strong come on to threats of torture.

The doorbell rang.

Considering the bullshit that'd slammed into her life a few hours ago, Taylor was understandably wary of strangers. Especially considering how no one who could have any cause to visit would think anyone would be home right now.

So, with T2 hovering above her head, it was with mild trepidation that she made her way to the front door.

After making sure the chain was firmly in place, and that she was ready to slam the door, Taylor cracked it open. And standing there was her stalker.

Blonde hair? Check

Freckles? Check

Yup, it was indeed her.

Despite her earlier lesson on respect, Taylor resorted to her standard tactic.

"Why, howdy stranger. Are you here to kidnap me for your boss?" When in doubt, go for sarcasm. It was only moderately likely to get a bullet to the head.

Lisa recoiled. Good, that confirmed she knew things had gone to Hell.

"Oh God, no, I'm so sorry Taylor. I swear I didn't know that was about to happen. I wasn't trying to mark you as a target!" She sounded guilty at least, probably knowing that the timing of their conversation was too much of a coincidence to ignore as unrelated.

Or she feared Taylor would think it wasn't a quirk of fate and think she had been set up.

Either way, Taylor figured that if Lisa was here to kidnap her there wasn't much she could do against the several, undoubtedly large and strong, men Lisa would have with her, simply sighed and leaned into the door frame.

"Look, Lisa, sorry, but I've had a shit day. A lot of stuff happened and, well, I'm just not up for this right now. And how did you find me anyways? Your power, right?"

Lisa chuckled. "No, actually. I just used the phone book. It's actually not that difficult considering I'd seen you. So I had I good grasp of your family's income, where they'd live, and based on the fact there's a hint of sea salt about you. Well, more of a hint. I put two and two together pretty easily.

Taylor snorted. "Well. If you found me, I guess I was right to be worried the Lady would know exactly who my dad was. Ain't that a bitch?"

The other girl shuffled for a bit. "Um. Sorry?"

Taylor pressed her head farther into the door frame. Her stalker was acting like this specifically to disarm her. And, of course, it was working.

"Thinkers are bullshit."

Lisa, now looking slightly worried, grimaced. But, she still hadn't asked to be let in. So, with a sigh and an extremely obvious role of the eyes, Taylor shut the door, slid the chain off, and gestured Lisa in.

"Come on. If you stand outside much longer you'll probably get shot. You do know that purse is about two hundred dollars too expensive to be safe in this neighborhood, right?"

Lisa shrugged and followed Taylor in, shutting, and locking, the door behind her. "I'm not a Combat a proper one, at least, but I'm very, very good at tearing people apart. Mentally, physically, emotionally, and, in one case, spiritually."

Snickering, not that Taylor hadn't tried to smother it, it was fun to imagine a petite fifteen year old blond girl using what amounted to super powered cold reading to take down hardened criminals. "Second verse, same as the first. Thinkers, like Tinkers, are bull shit. And damn scary."

A giggle was Taylor's answer. She shook her head as she walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a pair of water bottles. "You want something to drink?"

While Lisa was uninvited, she was still a guest. And Annette would have been damned before she let a guest be treated discourteously. And manners, what few Taylor did pick up, tended to be a good way to ground yourself in just about any situation.

"Yes please." Taylor tossed one of the bottles to the girl. Lisa, with an air of casual grace, snatched it out of the air. After a short quaff, and a moment of worrying her bottom lip, Lisa squared her shoulders and looked Taylor in the eyes.

"Ok, so, my power is telling me exactly how to convince you I'm not actually here to drag you to some dark warehouse like in those cheesy movies. But it's also telling me you just went through what should probably be considered a seriously traumatic event. Like, the kind of thing that gives you PTSD that you need to work through the rest of your life. I'm….I'm actually getting mixed signals. Um. I hope this doesn't come off as too personal, but, uh, did you have a second trigger? Is that how you got away from whoever took you?"

Taylor's grip tightened. So much so that she crushed the water bottle in her hands and, ignoring the flood of liquid, could only stare at her own hands. Without thinking, she started to shake, the bottle falling from her hand. Immediately, she started hyperventilating.

She felt cold, not numb like before, but all too aware of her memories as they came back like a flood. The feeling of helplessness, the sheer terror of being at the mercy of a madwoman, the bile that threatened to escape her mouth when she recalled the smooth skin against her chin, ready to tear out her throat.

It was too soon. It was too much.

"Oh fuck Taylor, I'm so sorry!"

Seeing that Taylor was clearly having a panic attack, Lisa rushed around the small kitchen table and wrapped her in a hug.

"Come on, it's ok. You're alright. Just breathe." Lisa had no idea what she was doing. At this point she was so panicked she wasn't even paying attention to what her power was telling her to do. Thankfully, the whispered platitudes and physical contact were exactly what was needed. After about ten minutes of this, she walked Taylor into the living room and laid her down on the couch.

As she moved to sit in on of the chairs, Taylor grabbed her hand, and, in a piteous voice, croaked out one word. "Stay."

Lisa's heart broke. So she did. Sliding to the floor, she leaned back against the sofa. Just close enough to maintain physical conflict. Just close enough to offer some small comfort.

After a few minutes, which Lisa spent shamefacedly staring at her lap, Taylor managed to work up enough energy to speak again.

"Sorry. I'm not….not sure what happened. I just felt cold and scared and I remembered-"

"Taylor." Lisa's voice wasn't harsh, but it was sharp. She knew, even without her gift, that the other girl was about to work herself into another panic attack.

"I'm not sure exactly what happened to you. And I don't need to know. But I do know that this is a perfectly normal reaction to what you went through. It's not a sign you're weak and it doesn't make you a freak. So just breathe, ok? I'm here now. And we can talk when you're ready."

Taylor gave a weak nod.

After about another ten minutes of just sitting, Lisa listening to her companion's slow and steady breathing and their hands just touching, she realized Taylor had fallen asleep. She craned her head around and looked at the other girl behind her.

"Poor girl. She didn't deserve this. Hell. None of us deserved this. I just hope the assholes who grabbed her are more gentle than Coil."

Wishful thinking at its finest. When it came to capes, the gangs would pull out all the stops for recruitment. Lisa knew that better than anyone else; the lines that would be crossed so thoughtlessly.

With a sigh, she stood up and popped her back. Ignoring the slight cramps in her legs, Lisas moved into the kitchen and cleaned up the spill from earlier. Looking around, she found the trash can. Unfortunately, she couldn't control her curiosity. And, while she wasn't snooping per se, she did notice a few key things.

The old picture with a no longer present mother. The large quantity of dishes in the sink and trash in the garbage can. Little signs of wear and tear. And even a few, recent, minor patch jobs. And, somewhat jarringly, a pair of schoolbooks, clearly well worn, sitting in the kitchen too.

It was a sad picture, but one that was getting better. Mother dead, father depressed. Taylor probably was too. Considering the state of the house, and neighborhood, she could understand the state of Taylor's clothes and school things, she had noticed her shopping list earlier in the day, but not necessarily to the degree it had been. And seeing how the girl hadn't had bruises earlier, all of that probably meant she'd been severely bullied at school too, as opposed to being abused by her father. Thinking back, Lisa recalled an event that had made it onto the local news for all of a day. A girl had been shoved in a locker and ended up hospitalized. It had been followed by some generic anti bullying crap, but Lisa had already tuned out at that point.

'So Taylor probably triggered then. That was, Jesus, less than two weeks ago? Mother Mary, she's having a month from Hell.'

Lisa wasn't entirely devoid of guilt either. Even if she hadn't done anything other than spooking the girl on the bus, it was still a factor that contributed to Taylor's current state, much to her chagrin.

What happened to the younger cape was becoming very clear. She must have gotten shot while trying to help people escape the Boardwalk, but instead of bleeding out on the street, someone took her and patched her up before forcing her into joining the Gentry.

Now, Lisa could think of at least half a dozen psychos who would be capable of that, not including Coil, but only one them had a power that could be used for both healing and torture. Someone so callous that they would save someone from death only to take their lives for themselves like a shiny new toy to play with.

The Lady.

She cursed. It was just Taylor's luck that she would run into, not one, but two parahumans on the same day. Only the second one wasn't as friendly as herself.

Lisa felt a familiar sensation tighten around her heart.

Guilt.

She grit her teeth, inwardly cursing her own sentimentality. It was frankly pathetic for a villain, even a forced one like her, to become attached so quickly to a stranger she had met only that afternoon. But things weren't ever simple with her. And she admitted she didn't quite mind her budding friendship with Taylor.

Lisa walked back to the couch, taking a seat besides her new friend and found herself smiled fondly.

Maybe there would be a silver lining to this whole mess after all.

 **[In the evening]**

Danny sighed in relief. Finally home after a day of slamming his head at the unflinching bureaucratic wall that was the mayor's office. It's not like there wasn't work for the Union to do, God knows the whole of the docks needed upkeep, it was just a task that seemed too great for him to get the Mayor to actually pay for it. Lately he had gotten more passionate about it, but that could be chalked up to him being more energetic in general. Things were still hit and miss for the dockworkers though. It was hard to find work when the city was on a downward spiral, but his boys, and girls, were large, strong folks. Used to breaking their backs and working long, hard hours. Someone, somewhere would pay them. Better the city than a gang. But, of course, the freaking snobs never got that.

Today was extra tense too, due to the Merchant attacks earlier that morning. The whole of the Bay was on high alert; so much so that the PRT was out in force, men on every sidewalk. When the resident crazies act up, and rack up a body count just shy of the double digits, the government has to come down hard.

Danny had been a nervous wreck about it, wanting to try and call Taylor to see if she was okay despite neither one of them having cellphones and his own busy schedule. He did ask a couple of his guys to go check the hospital and Boardwalk just in case though.

Like everyone else, he heard about the new cape that had gotten shot. But Taylor was only supposed to be out for an hour or so. And she was likely home well before anything else happened. It was enough for him to calm down and focus on his paperwork.

Today had been fairly productive, all things considered. So it was with hearty satisfaction that Danny Hebert drove his way back home.

In hindsight, he should have suspected something was going to happen. After all there was no such thing as free lunch in a place like Brockton Bay. If things were going your way, it was because something terrible was about to happen. However, no amount of paranoia could have prepared him for the scene he found when he walked into the living room that evening.

Coming across his daughter, chatting and giggling with another girl, a quite attractive one at that, wasn't quite what he expected. He felt he had suddenly traveled back in time; only this time it was a blonde, not a redhead.

Danny shook himself back into focus and took a deep breath. Alright, this was important. Likely his one and only shot at being a normal dad.

"So, kiddo. Not that I'm not happy for you, but I do still want grandbabies."

Daniel Hebert would swear he could hear Taylor's teeth snap shut. He also heard her neck creak as she turned around and, with a blush on both her cheeks, and gave him a glare that sent a primal, terrifying shiver down his spine. At that precise moment he had, not one, but two stray thoughts.

The first was 'Oh crap'.

The second was 'She got it from her mother'.

And both were equally terrifying.

"Bwahahahahahahahah!"

Lisa couldn't hold it in. The joke had been terrible, but well intentioned. She could tell that Daniel, Taylor's old man, had intended it as a 'dad joke'. And holy crap did Taylor look just about ready to rip her dad's head off!

Shooting him one last glare, Taylor turned back to her friend. "Lisa, stop that! It wasn't even funny! And Dad, we are going to have words about boundaries later."

It was at that moment that Danny decided stay out of her reach for the next few days. Maybe he also should sleep with the door locked. Not that it would do him much good if the angry buzzing he heard coming from his daughter was anything to go by; possibly from her pet fly, possibly an unbirthed swarm of doom.

He shuddered. It had been a week already but he was still getting used to her daughter's powers and their, ahem, perks.

"So, kiddo." He started. "How did you two meet?"

Taylor balked, uncertain of what to say, and Danny narrowed his eyes. So there was a bit of a story there. He was going to ask again when the blonde, Lisa, came to his daughter's rescue.

"We met on the bus. I just walked up to her and started chatting, really." It was the truth, to a certain degree, yet Taylor felt it was avoiding a lot of important stuff. And, above all else, her dad was treating her like an adult. So, biting her tongue, she shook her head.

Lisa blinked. She'd been about to weave a tale about how the two of them had become best friends after a memorable morning at the Boardwalk. Say that Taylor saved her life when the Merchants attacked and that she dragged her back home.

With how much her father was fretting, it would be easy to convince him, but it seemed Taylor wanted to go for full disclosure, which confused her.

Frankly, even her power was telling her Taylor really, really didn't want her dad to know what had happened. Never mind the fact she had no real reason to trust either of these people. At all. Still, it made her smile. Her own parents were narcissistic cunts who were more concerned with milking all the attention they could get when her brother killed himself. So, just this once, she would take a leap of faith.

Maybe this is what she needed.

"Ah. I do apologize. That wasn't the entire truth."

Danny cocked an eyebrow and Lisa had to strangle the urge to fidget. After a moment he nodded his head.

"I'm a cape. A Thinker. And I, um, kind of stalked your daughter for a bit?"

Danny cut his eyes to Taylor. It was clear he was asking her if she had been hurt. Taylor shook her head, slowly, after thinking about it for a minute.

"No Dad. Lisa's safe. We can trust her, I think. If she wanted to, we'd be dead or worse by now. And she did try to warn me. Um. To keep it short and to the point, I, uh, I'm the cape that got shot?"

Danny started to his feet. "God-fucking-damnit Taylor, are you ok!?" He started checking her all over.

"Where did you get hit?"

"Are you okay? Oh of course you aren't, you got shot."

"Did you go to the hospital? I sent some people to check the hospital to make sure you were alright but they didn't see or hear about you there."

Taylor grimaced. This was not going to be pretty.

"Calm down, dad. You are going to give yourself a stroke like that. So, from the top. I think I got shot in the lower back. I am fine, relatively speaking, and no, I didn't go to the hospital." She took a deep breath, steeling her nerves.

"I helped save some people from a fire at the Boardwalk but got shot when I tried to escape. Some of the people I saved patched me up after I fainted."

Taylor closed her eyes, waiting for him to blow up. She waited and waited, and waited some more, but nothing happened. No screaming, no over the top reaction, nothing. She opened her eyes and was faced with the image of her father planting his face in both of his hands, breathing deeply.

"Dad?"

"Yes?" Came the muffled reply.

Okay, so he hadn't had a nervous breakdown yet. Good. The silence was a tad unnerving though.

"What are you doing?" She tried again, looking at Lisa for help. The girl had a wince etched on her face.

Okay, not good.

Lisa made a go on gesture with her hand, but, well the wince just got worse.

"So, a few things happened. It turned out that the guys who helped me were from the Gentry. After that, well, I got to meet the Lady, and, well, let's just say that after some aggressive negotiating I'm at her beck and call. I can't go a week without seeing her or bad things will happen to my brain. And, for obvious reasons, I was warned against trying anything. Apparently it's one of those things where if I snitch I'll just drop dead. Or something like that. She was intentionally vague and ominous."

Silence.

Complete, utter, silence met her explanation. That is aside from the sound of Lisa's palm meeting her face. But that wasn't what caused her to worry. Nope, not one bit.

What gave her pause was the look of complete serenity on her father's face. As if he just hadn't heard his own daughter say that she was forcefully enlisted by one of the most dangerous capes in town to join a gang and that said daughter also had no way to escape.

"Dad?" She tried.

No answer. Shit.

For a moment Taylor thought he hadn't heard her and reached to tap him on the shoulder, only for him to start falling backwards in a dead faint.

"Dad!"

"Mr Hebert!"

He hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Taylor and Lisa were by his side in seconds.

"Well, so much for trying to break it to him gently. Probably a good thing you didn't mention the PTSD?" Lisa commented.

"Ow!"

Taylor punched her in the arm. Hard.

"What was that for?"

"He was waking up."

"...My bad?"

"Mm."

"Oh, come on, I was looking at you! I totally don't deserve monosyllables?"

Taylor turned to Lisa and, in perfect imitation of her father, cocked an eyebrow.

"Come on! I said I'm sorry!"

"Yes, you are."

Lisa, knowing this battle wasn't one she was gonna win, did the smart thing. She pouted.

It was a masterful thing. Full eyes, pouty lips, just the right amount of water. Ten out of ten puppy dog eyes that have likely been used in the past to get her out of trouble for whatever mischief the faux-psychic had committed.

Taylor was not impressed.

After about fifteen seconds of trying, she gave up. "For real, Taylor. I am sorry. For everything."

Taylor nodded. "Yeah, I know you are. It's….it's not ok. I mean, you're fine-."

"Why thank you!"

"'Snort'. Jesus you're full of yourself. But yeah. I'm tired, I'm scared, doesn't look like Dad's bleeding, check with your power?"

"He's alright. He'll have a bruise, but there was no damage."

"Gotcha. Good. Still. I feel….alone? I know when Dad wakes up he'll be incredibly embarrassed about this. But I can hardly blame him. It's a lot. I know he'll be there for me. Now, at least. But he wasn't for so long. I'm worried that, well, he'll end up like he was before. Or worse."

Lisa reached out and touched Taylor's arm.

"Look, I wanted to warn you that this kind of thing could happen. Well, not exactly this." Lisa gestured to the kitchen around them and the unconscious man in front of them. With a wry grin, Taylor shook her head.

"But I more meant warning you about the consequences of thinking you were ready. You never really are. Even capes like Miss Militia, and she was a former child soldier, aren't really ready. But you're fifteen. I think I was eleven? Twelve? Something like that when I triggered. I was young enough that, more or less, I don't really consider my person to be seperate from my power. For you, now, you're part of the cape world. Whether you want to be or not. And from here on out, it really will be do or die. I very much doubt the Merchants have a specific purpose behind all this, but there probably is a vague, and stupid, reason."

Taylor nodded. She wasn't ignorant. She knew things were gonna be bad all around now. The whole city was basically under martial law. They even had troops in the street, if the news was to be believed, and armed PRT patrols across the whole city.

She knew the situation had the potential to get worse too. With so much police activity the gangs were bound to get antsy, feeling threatened by the display of force. They were all territorial and would start pushing back pretty soon if things didn't calm down.

It was hard to tell with the Merchants if this had been what they wanted, Taylor didn't think most of them even had the capability to understand the consequences. But it was clear for everyone else, even to the most mundane civilian.

War was on the horizon.

"Do you think that the other gangs will try and get involved?" Taylor questioned, desperately wishing to be proven wrong.

Lisa sighed. That wasn't a good sign.

"Some way or another. The PRT is out to get the Merchants for the stunt they pulled today. The other big shots are just waiting for an opportunity, to see which way the wind blows, before doing anything."

"What do your powers tell you about all this?" Taylor asked, curious.

Lisa bit her lip, focusing on her powers and they drew more and more conclusions. The small voice in the back of her head providing her with details and possible reasons behind their attacks.

In the end, she was only certain of one thing.

 _[The Merchant attacks were a challenge.]_

But to whom? Was it just a show of force or were they driven to do so because they felt threatened? Why cause so much civil unrest by attacking a 'safe zone' in broad daylight if all that accomplished was getting the PRT on their tails?

It was impossible to tell at this point, too many variables and too little information.

"Not much, my powers only extrapolate from what I know and I can get from other people." And for that she would need to use her power on one of those insane bastards. "If we are lucky, the Merchants were just having an off day and will crawl back into their holes once the PRT starts hunting them down."

She honestly hoped that was the case at least.

Because the other conclusion her powers were able to draw from the entire debacle scared her more than she felt it should

 _[Members of the Gentry caught in the crossfire. Payback eminent.]_

That could prove to be a problem. The Gentry wasn't as active as it once was, Marquis hadn't made a public appearance since Lung arrived and started vying for territory. These days it was possible to completely avoid them if you stayed clear of of their territory.

But now they had a reason to be on the freaking war path.

After all, nobody caused problems for the Gentry and lived for long after all.

She gave Taylor a cursory glance.

Unfortunately, that meant that Taylor would end up being dragged into that fight if the higher ups felt her powers would be useful. She was still a new cape and thus hadn't experienced and learnt much about her powers yet. If she had any luck they would exclude her from participating.

Or they might expect her to participate because she got shot by the drug-addled imbeciles.

"Something wrong?" Taylor patted her on the shoulder, concern clear on her voice.

Lisa considered explaining what she learnt, but was stopped by a grunt of exertion. It seemed the only adult in the room was finally coming to, much to her relief.

"Here, let me help you." The two teenage girls helped him sit up on the couch, making sure to give him room to breath.

Danny clutched his skull, feeling it throb in pain and groaning in discomfort.

"My head. Who hit me and how much did they take?"

Lisa and Taylor laughed awkwardly.

"Sorry about that, Mr Hebert. We should have asked you to sit down before we told you what happened." Lisa started, rubbing the back her head sheepishly.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty, after all.

"Told me…?" Danny was clueless for a second or two before reality came crashing down. He paled for a moment before starting to become an angry red, his face twisting in rage.

"Those fucking…!" He made to stand up.

Only to be pushed back down the two girls.

"Dad, calm down. You will give yourself a heart attack." Taylor held him firm.

"Calm down?! You just told me that those bastards from the Gentry just kidnapped and then forced you to join their gang, and for what?! Because you helped them!" Taylor winced at the reminder.

"Because getting angry about it isn't going to do anything! It won't get me out of trouble and it sure as Hell won't change the fact that it happened in the first place." She hissed coldly. Bitter hatred blooming in her heart as memories flashed through her mind's eye once more.

Yes, she had blundered pretty spectacularly in many different ways in a single day, but ranting and raging about it wouldn't change what happened. But that didn't change the fact that she was the one pissed off the most.

"If you want to help, first you need to calm down. That goes for you too, Taylor." Lisa gave her a reproachful look, knowing that she had gotten just as angry as her father.

"Sorry about that. Didn't meant to take it out on you, dad." Taylor, shamefacedly, apologized.

"It's fine. I shouldn't have lost my temper either." Danny laid back against on the couch, letting out a sigh as he worked through the last dredges of his anger. Make no mistake about anything, Daniel Hebert was still mighty pissed, but one look from Taylor was all he needed to know that she was serious about being rational.

"What's the plan then?"

Lisa raised her hand.

"Let's start with dinner." Lisa sing-sang, getting weirded out looks from the daughter-father duo.

"What, I can't think when I'm hungry. And we do have one week to come up with something. That's plenty of time." She gave them a cheeky grin.

All three of the group dropped down when the staccato bark of gunshots broke the pleasant silence. After a few, tenses moments it remained quiet. However, just as all three began to relax a loud burst of automatic fire roared out of the night. Answering shots, this time from a handgun, happily joined in.

Danny shook his head. "Lisa, I know you're a cape. And I know you're not my child. But you tried to help Taylor. I'd feel much better if you stayed the night. Not just for dinner."

With a slow nod, Lisa agreed. "Yeah. There's probably a good idea."

Taylor frowned. "All right. You two go turn on the news. I want to know if that crap's coming our way. It'll be about thirty minutes. I started defrosting some ground beef earlier in the day. Gumbo sound good to you guys?"

Danny gave an appreciative, and emphatic, yes. Not that he'd ever say it aloud, but his daughter was a damn good cook. Good enough to even beat out Annette.

"Yeah, Taylor. And by the way, your dad thinks your cooking is as good as your mom's."

Taylor smiled and hugged her dad. "Thanks. Now go on. I've got to get started and you could burn water."

With a chuckle, Danny left. Fully intending to grill his daughter's new friend in a very polite, but very pointed manner. Even if he didn't quite trust the girl, he was very grateful for Lisa going out of her way to help Taylor. What's more he could see the guilt and the happiness in the Thinker's eyes.

So, for now, he would be cautiously optimistic.

 **[Ending Authors Note]**

 **Alvor: So, this is a short explanation of a few things that may or may not be interesting to you guys. And it's some basic lore. First off, the Point of Divergence was the fight between Marquis and the BBB. A few years later, Amy was almost kidnapped by an unknown cape, triggering, and then goes through a second trigger shortly after the cape tried to kill her. Because of the changes to her Bud, she was aware of her own second trigger, but repressed the trauma. This event left her with an obsession towards triggers and she's partly affected her own gemma. As such, she's limited the influence of her own shard, slightly warping and weakening her own powers. In exchange, she's merely insane, not utterly and totally subverted by her shard.**

 **In short, she's a monster. And Cauldron is, to a certain extent, actively courting her. Not that she knows it yet.**


	6. Interlude: 1

**AN: Hello people of the internet. We have returned! After a couple weeks of real life shenanigans and revising our previous chapters Wyvern & Warhawk are proud to announce the return to our regular update schedule. **

**Alvor: So. This is partly my fault. My muse has been solid dead or on five different tangents for the last week. I actually finished this up at 3 AM. Up to that point, I'd been soundly asleep for close to five hours. Such is life, no?**

 **Wyvern: Indeed, so as a way to make up for our slightly extended hiatus we decided to bring you our very first interlude. Enjoy and don't forget to leave a review.**

 **[Interlude 1 - Spare the Rod and the Free Man's Chains]**

Hana shook her head.

The meeting had taken a good part of the morning, going well into the afternoon uninterrupted. It was an unfortunate necessity given the latest batch of problems the Bay decided to throw the local PRT, not counting the Nazi, the psychopaths, and the local dragon, that is.

It spoke of just how dangerous the situation was turning out to be, with a gang war on the horizon they needed to be ready for anything and everything, yet she felt their time could have been more wisely allocated to neutralizing the actual cause of their issues.

The Merchants, for one, were sorely out of hand. And as much as it galled her to admit it, the national guardsmen were likely going to be needed in the coming days.

Of course, procedure must be followed. The rule of law was the only thing that kept this city as intact as it was. And without those few remaining guardians, it would have descended into an orgy of violence long ago.

So, smothering any complaints she might have had, Miss Militia sat silently, only occasionally speaking when spoken to, and spending her time observing the newcomers. And what she saw saddened her greatly.

The new Wards, all under sixteen, had the looks of hardened veterans of long experience. Far, far too similar to Missy for her tastes.

'Truly, it is the greatest of the sins of this city that children may not be children.'

In the end, regret solved nothing. And only action could hope to bring any good from so much bad. As the whole of the group shuffled to their feet, she decided it would be best to go ahead and introduce herself. Maybe make a friend or two. Or, if nothing else, made sure they knew how to find the coffee maker.

"First of all, welcome to Brockton Bay and welcome to the Protectorate East by North East. My name is Miss Militia. And, while it's saddening that you need to be here, I assure you we're all quite thankful for your assistance."

The leader of the group, a tall man, with a deep southern drawl, spoke up. "We're glad we could help. Now, I have a few major concerns mam. Though, these are a bit more informal than what would be appropriate for a debriefing."

Hana nodded to him. Turning to look at him more fully, she took stock of him. He wore a full body costume, in red and blue, with a single white star on his chest. His cowl covered all of his face, leaving only his eyes uncovered. "Lonestar, correct?"

He nodded. "Yes mam."

"Go ahead then."

"Thank yah very much mam. Now, Jackrabbit and I have tussled with a few rogues back home. But the only real organizations out in Texas are either the Elite or the Fallen. And, well, I know for a fact the kiddies haven't fought the later. My main question is this. When it comes to busting who and for what, how should we handle your folks?"

She grimaced. "Well, considering that you, Jackrabbit, who's the young lady in the brown and white correct?"

"Yes'm" The woman in question piped up.

"Nice to meet you as well." Hana took the time to flash the younger woman a quick smile. Her voice sounded a bit _too_ young to be a cape. But, the PRT had given a few early transfers. "I suppose, the easiest thing to say, is to treat everyone like you would the fallen?"

One of the new wards snorted. The youngest of that specific group punched them. "Tower, don't laugh."

"But Cassy, why the Hell would we need to treat a bunch of junkies and nazis like _serious_ criminals. I mean, there's so many of us. How the heck are these guys still running around."

'Cassy' quickly glared at her compatriot. "It's not _cassy_ , _Igor_ , it's _Castle._ Now _shut up_ , or I'll shove into the pocket dimension for a few hours."

The older boy paled, visible thanks to the fact he only wore a domino mask, whether from arrogance or earned confidence Hana was unsure. "Tower and Castle, the somewhat famous brother-sister duo from Des Moines, correct? I heard you two stopped a spree killer and a cape inspired mass shooting in the same week. Well done for that. But Tower, I'm quite serious."

Taking the time to make sure the boy could see her face, even going so far as to let her scarf fall down, just so he could see all of her facial muscles, Hana stared him down for a bit.

"First off, the E88 has more capes then we did, up until you got here. And they're still recruiting. Ever since the latest attack by the Merchants, which left eleven people dead, with three still missing, they've been taking in non powered recruits every day. Thanks to their connections with Gesellschaft, we know they've got access to machine guns and possibly RPGs. Never mind the fact that the gang is likely responsible for upwards of two thousand murders in the last five years."

Castle abashedly looked at his feet.

"So, yes, the nazis are quite a serious problem. And considering the fact both you and your sister are known to be of hispanic descent, I'd be particularly watchful around them. However, the E88 are probably the _least_ concerning group in the city. The ABB have a teleporting suicide bomber as their number two cape. And we've lost more than one cop to Oni Lee in the past. Thankfully, we've never had a hero killed by him. However, that doesn't mean he hasn't hospitalized a few of us. And I _know_ you've all heard about the Lady. Don't discount any of the gangs. At any time. I don't need to remind you that a junkie high on PCP can take a magazine from a pistol and still live long enough to shove a piece of glass into your throat."

Tower now looked openly ashamed.

"I'm not trying to scare you, but I am trying to make sure you understand the Bay is _not_ like LA. Those of you from Texas, I remember hearing about the border skirmishes and the Cartel War. Treat a gang member like you a member from the MS13 or the Gulf Cartel. Don't turn your back or take your eyes off them for a second. And do _not_ , I repeat, _do not_ engage their capes without backup. Psychopaths like Iron Rain and Oni Lee have zero concerns going for the kill. Follow protocol, radio in for support, and wait for orders. _No_ exceptions."

The new capes talked amongst themselves. Most seemed a bit unsure. But none were overly worried. After a few moments the group stopped muttering and firmed their spines.

Lonestar spoke up for the group again. "Don't worry mam. We'll stick to our partners and make sure to read all the briefing packets."

Piggot spoke up suddenly, catching the attention of the rest of the capes still there. "See that you do. Miss Militia, come with me. Armsmaster, you too. The rest of you, dismissed."

Somewhat confused, Hana nonetheless shook hands with Lonestar and gave the rest of the group a nod. Quickly falling into step with her friend and her boss, Miss Militia had to wonder what the Boarhound would need with her that would be more important than acclimating the recruits.

 **[A few hours later]**

Hana poured herself a cup of coffee. It was four thirty five in the afternoon, just after her shift got off, and just about when Missy tended to get back to the Rig from Arcadia. Just as she sat down, the door to the Cape only rec-room opened.

"Speak of the devil."

Missy giggled. "Oh, come on, you do that everyday Hana. You're gonna give me a complex if you keep that up."

Miss Militia snorted. "So I'm the one giving you a complex, and not Gallant?"

Vista groaned and threw one of the paper cups at her. Casually, Hana reached out and grabbed it. "Heh. So no luck today either?"

She didn't need to see the face of the young Ward to know the girl was furrowing her brow in frustration.

"Nah. He and GG were snogging again. In the hallways. _Publicly_. It was annoying."

"Well then, maybe you should try and make him jealous? Make friends with a few other boys, and maybe a few girls? Just to give yourself a social circle that doesn't rely on you being a cape."

Rolling her eyes, even though Hana couldn't see, Vista spoke over her shoulder, as she finished her double mocha white chocolate espresso "Look, mom, you and I both know I just don't click with other kids. They just don't get me. And I _don't_ mean that in the typical teenage angsty way."

Militia slowly sipped her cooling coffee. "No, I know exactly what you mean. You're a hero. A Cape. How can they understand you when their biggest concern is their hairstyle, or who's got the shiniest car? They just don't understand what it's like to have a gun shoved in your face or to face down a mad man who can kill you with a glance."

Now turning away from the glorious coffee machine, bought by very, very kind taxpayers for their oh so beleaguered heroes, Missy sat down in front of her mentor. "Yeah. Exactly like that.

Carefully watching her would-be protege, she waited until Vista was taking a long sip of her coffee before riposting. "And that, my dear Vista, is the point. They're supposed to ground you, give you a bit of normality, so you handle the crazy better."

Missy snorted into her coffee. "Please. This is Brockton Bay, there is no normal. I mean, all week long, there were cops in full SWAT gear patrolling the school. And everyone was just cool with it."

"And do you think that's normal?"

The Ward just laughed. "Normal? No. But it is reality. This city has seen no less than seven unrelated violent assaults, in public, since the Merchants decided to throw a temper tantrum. Throw in at least four murders I know of…."

A unperturbed look dominated the younger heroine's pace. She shrugged.

Hana finished the last of her coffee.

"This city is a shithole. Why do we still look after it? It'll kill all of us in the end."

"Hana, I'm thirteen. And I've seen more men die than most. I've killed a few, too. You and I both know we're only still hear because this is all we know. I joined when I was eleven, just after I triggered. And besides, without people like us, just think of how bad it would be."

Miss Militia nodded. "Yeah. And I discussed it with Piggot. We know the E88 have been stockpiling weapons. And we're pretty sure the ABB are too. So Kid Win is in the process of making the rest of the team sidearms as well. Until then, you'll be issued this ."

Reaching down besides her, Hana picked up a small case. It was a plastic container, all grey, and, as she sat it down on the table, she popped both latches.

Vista reached over and turned the case around. Once she looked inside, her eyes widened. "Well, if there's another shooting, I suppose it makes sense."

She tentatively reached inside and picked up the handgun inside.

"Indeed. I know you took the workshop last year, so your qualifications are up to date. But you'll need to make sure you keep those up now, Missy. It's a big responsibility. But, well, you and Shadow Stalker aren't exactly going to have anyone going easy on you. And if what the brass thinks is going to happen, happens, I want you able to defend yourself. If you want, I'll go with you to the armory and help you fill out the paperwork. Get you a knife while we're there too."

Missy carefully handled the pistol in her hands. It was small, only a nine millimeter, but it _was_ a lethal weapons. With only a small amount of awkwardness she ran through a quick check. First, she checked the safety, then the chamber, then ejected the magazine. The gun was unloaded, obviously, but all of the operations were smooth. With a nod she replaced the weapon and then closed the case.

"I suppose you'll want me to carry it all times, even when off duty? I mean, except at school, obviously."

Hana shifted. "Actually, you'll be handing it over to a PRT agent we've inserted into the school staff. After Martyr's death, especially after it went viral, too, the Youth Guard has lost a _lot_ of support. People remember how hard they campaigned to keep Wards from being armed with lethal weapons. And dead kids can make or break political will."

Seeing a would-be hero die so young got the public in a tizzy, especially the parents of the Wards, to demand all sorts of safeguards and added protection. It was the kind of opening she needed to push for extra security and more training for the Wards, to make sure they wouldn't meet a similar end.

Hana only wished it hadn't cost so much. As well intentioned as Martyr had been, they were either dead or on the thrall of the Gentry at this point, an unfortunate end to someone who only wanted to help.

After taking a few moments to just sit and drink her now cold coffee Hana spoke up again.

"Missy, are you still having the dreams?"

The Ward, who'd been looking at the case in front of her as if it was a bomb, started. "I, uh….yeah. Every night. I, um, I see it again. The Merchant stabbing me in the gut. Me hitting him with a brick. But I think I'm doing better than Clock. He's still depressed."

Militia shook her head. "PTSD isn't something you just ignore. And while I don't think you have it, it's not something I want you taking chances with. Now that you've been issued a firearm, your psyche evals are far, far more important. So no skipping counseling sessions, no more leaving early, and you're gonna have to work with them. Got me?"

At first, Missy looked like she was going to argue. But after a few seconds, she shut her mouth and, with a somewhat sullen look on her face, nodded her agreement.

"Yes mam. Even if they are a waste of time."

Hana didn't snap, or get angry. Instead she nodded her head and agreed with her. "Yeah. They really are. With therapy, you only get out what you put in. And you're not putting anything in."

When Vista looked like she was going to disagree, Militia shook her head.

"No, hear me out. _I_ go to my regular sessions. Every two weeks. Haven't missed one in nearly three years. Because it's _important_. Listen Missy, this isn't me coming down on you. You've got to hear me out on this. You've only been allowed to take your extra shifts because it doesn't seem to hurt your mental health. And no one's said anything about you sleeping in the barracks even though we all know you do it."

Miss Militia stood and walked to her protege. She put her hand on the girl's shoulder and looked her in the eye. "You're thirteen. And you act like an old soldier. I've seen you go from asleep to combat ready inside of three minutes. And I know you train harder than any of the other Wards. And I _know_ you've seen and done things even hardened adult capes couldn't handle. That's why I'm afraid. I don't want you to grow up to be like me."

Vista, a few tears in her eyes, sniffled and shook her head. "I'm sorry Hana. It's just that I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. No one treats me like a kid anymore. Not after all that….Well. Not anymore, at least. But all I've ever known was being a cape. I _like_ what I do. And, well, I wouldn't mind being like you at all."

Here she began to mumble, but Hana could still clearly hear the girl.

"And with the way they fight, I hate going home. I wish I could just be like you already."

Sighing, Hana bent down and hugged the still slightly sniffing Ward. "It's ok Vista. It really is. You know, I'm so proud of you. You're so young and you fight so hard. So here's a deal. Go to your counseling sessions and I'll take you shooting afterwords. Show you a few tricks."

"Really?"

"Really."

Nodding her head into the hug, Missy stopped sniffling. Pulling back she rubbed her eyes. Thankfully, she still had her mask, so she could slip it on and hide any evidence of her moment of weakness. But with slightly more spring in her step she stood up.

"Come on Hana. Let's go fill out that paperwork. Then I think I'm gonna take a long shower and skip the extra shift for today. The alarms will wake me if anything too big happens."

Miss Militia just nodded and laughed. Right behind her far-too-adult but-still-a-child student.

 **[Sable - The Free Man's Chains]**

Sable ducked the skinhead's punch, qucikly lashins out with a few vicious jabs, getting his opponent to pull back. As soon as he saw an opening, Sable lashed out with a wild left hook, stepped forward into his opponent's sloppy guard, and brought the brow of his steel plated stylized human face helm down onto the thug's nose.

A wet popping sound filled his ears and the would be nazi fell to the ground, his face a ruined mess of blood and destroyed tissue.

Without thinking, Brian brought his booted foot up and then brought it down, crushing his opponent's femur. Almost lazily, he threw a second kick, catching the downed, screaming man in the ribs and cracking one or two.

Grunting, Laborn walked away from the sobbing, wreck of a man and looked around him.

Fully a dozen E88 members, all of them wearing their gang colors, lay on the ground or were leaning against nearby walls. Three of them weren't moving anymore, bleeding from vicious stab wounds on their torsos. Clearing his throat, he made sure the fucks could hear him.

"Stay the _fuck_ out of Gentry territory, you fucking idiots. Or next time, the Lady is gonna come turn you asss wipes into her next art piece. Capiece?"

The only response was a chorus of groans and sobs.

Shaking his head, he walked off.

As he walked over to a nondescript black truck he wiped off the front of his mask with a rag he pulled from his back pocket. Looking around, he took a moment to make sure all the nazis were down for good, and then unlocked the passenger door to the vehicle, the truck's engine roaring to life as he buckled in.

"PRT's still five minutes out. So you could've played around a bit longer big bro."

He snorted.

"Aisha, you're a psycho. I love you. But you're a psycho."

She shot him a look as she deftly swerved around a pair of stopped cars.

All Brian could do was shake his head in exasperation at his suicidal little sister.

"Well big bro, when do I get to meet the new girl?"

Shuffling around a bit, Brian tried to come up with a reasonable answer.

"I'm not sure. Barney said the Lady worked her over. Full blown second trigger." Both of them took a moment to just let that ugly truth squat in the car. "Thankfully, she was able to show up for her first week of basic. Apparently she surprised a lot of people with how hard she worked."

"You don't sound happy."

"It's probably not good. She's either so desperate that her home life is less palatable than a psychopath. Or, she's plotting. Neither are good for the Gentry. Doubly so for us if she snaps and goes crazy."

He let the statement hang in the air.

Aisha scoffed.

"Come on, bro. We've dealt with crazies like those before. You know the little princess must have a tight leash on her anyway." She flashed him a sardonic smile.

Brian sighed, exasperated by his siblings ability to simply ignore what could be any and all threats to their well being. He supposed it was a quirk acquired from her powers, that ability to go completely unnoticed by anyon she focused on. It was the reason why the two of them worked so well together.

"So what do you feel like doing now, _Sable_ ?" Aisha teased him as they headed back to the parking lot with a cheeky smile under her mask, no doubt.

He fought the urge to groan.

"You know I hate that name." He gave her a curling glare but it just made the little imp of a girl laugh, much to his frustration.

"Shouldn't have let the princess name us then. I mean, seriously, what part of me says 'Faerie'?" She snarked.

Brian rolled his eyes.

"I'm so very sorry you have to live through that _terrible_ label. I'm sure there isn't anyone else in the Bay that has it worse."

"Where did you pick up sarcasm? Weren't you supposed to be the strong and silent type?"

"It comes with the territory." He answered simply.

"Of being a villain?"

"Of being an older brother. Only way to deal with a certain mischievous cape, after all. " He poked her in the forehead.

"Oi!" Aisha scowled.

The brother-sister duo walked into the waiting car before driving away from the alleyway. They remained silent for a while, comfortable in each other's presence in a way only siblings could be, just watching the buildings pass by as Aisha drove back.

For Brian, it was a stark reminder of things that were to come, the problems that would soon arrive as the powder keg known as Brockton Bay came closer and closer to explosion.

And that soon the two of them would need to weather the storm.

"Aisha. If you want, I've got the money hidden away. I can get you out of here before things explode. You're smart enough to make the money last. And I can get the documents forged in about a day."

Aisha gave him a confused look.

"What are you on about, Brian? There's no way I'm leaving you here on this mess. Why don't we go together, let the big shots tear shit up and then come back?"

"The Lady always demands a price. And leaving her hanging like that would be a death sentence. But _if_ we got out of here. I'd never look back. This whole place is a death trap. That's why I want you out of here."

"And then what, Brian? Run away from place to place wondering what comes next? Maybe become the villains of the week in another town to make due when we are out of money?"

"Are you saying you wouldn't want to be a roving master thief?"

"Yeah, I would to do that. Would be great at it too, but running now would be like saying we aren't good enough. That we had to flee when things got tough. I may be a villain but I am not a coward."

Aisha looked down, stopping at a red light and turned to face her brother.

"How long has it been, Brian? Since we started doing this?"

"Two years. And it's been two years too long. But these last eight months have been….rough."

Aisha nodded, her eyes never leaving her brother's.

"And what proof do we have that things will be any different if we run?"

"At least we'd be gone. Out of _this_ place. We could go West. Maybe join the Elite. It'd be safe and we'd make good money."

"Bro, if there is one thing I've learnt since we started this dig is that you can't leave. Well, technically we could, but no matter where we went, we would always be Faerie and Sable from Brockton Bay."

"...I take it you wouldn't want to join the Wards?"

"Fuck that." Aisha snorted

Brian sighed. "I really should wash your mouth out. Not that'd make a difference. But alright. At least you'll have a friend for once."

Taking a few moments, Brian thought over what was going to happen in the next month or two. It was patently clear that a gang war was going to start far, far too soon. Today was just the last in a string of nasty skirmishes that had left dozens hospitalized or dead. He just didn't see a way for the two of them to make it through the coming storm intact.

"Kiddo. I'm scared. And I have no idea how to make it through this stupid fucking war."

"I think it's rather obvious. We kick ass. Screw those junkie bastards, the nazi idiots and those asian thugs. We get together and open a can of whoop ass on them if they try and get one up on us."

It was simple, really.

"This entire shebang started because the Merchants are getting stomped out and decided to throw a tantrum. Everyone is hunting them down now but getting in each other's way to see who will do it first. So I say we go ahead and swoop in while everyone is distracted and shank those fuckers."

"'Snort' You make it sound so simple. Never mind the dozens of enemy capes. Just shank 'em, yeah?"

"Yah, but I guess we could get Seamstress and Vizier in on it."

Ah. The Boyfriend. With slightly narrowed eyes, Brian turned to look at his sister. "How _is_ your friend who just happens to be a boy? He still knows I'll do to him what I did to Shadow Stalker if he ever does more than kiss you, right?"

"I think he got the message when you broke his nose, bro. He still gets jumpy whenever I turn off the lights of his room."

Brian mumbled something that might or might not have been 'Damn right'.

The two returned to silence. Just enjoying the atmosphere. As it stood, there would be a long, long time before they'd have a moment of peace. And it's likely the Lady would send both of them on missions that would court death.

Such was the submission of Sable that he would join so long as his sister was protected.

Such was the wanderlust, and no small amount of blood lust, of Faerie ensured her action against her enemies. Even if she should, perhaps, be the more of a simple spy or agent as opposed to a frontliner.

Neither, of course, would be forever content in their roles. But both would remain as focused as they might be upon their goals.

'Perhaps…' Brian though. 'Perhaps if this new cape. This new girl. Through her we _might_ be able to free ourselves. Given time and preparation. Just maybe…."

 **[A few hours later…]**

Brian double checked his helmet, making sure it was firmly in place, before climbing out of the car. It wouldn't do to look anything but the unflinching wall he'd built his reputation around. Even seeming weak could get your throat slit.

To be fair, most of that happened to the non capes. Working for the Lady directly did offer a large measure of protection from the non powered members of the Gentry. But it paid very, very well to remain aware and to head off trouble before it could become an issue.

"Sable." Barney greeted him at the entrance. The man looked every bit the stereotypical henchmen, but with a dash of hidden confidence that came from surviving for fifteen years in a world filled with gods and devils.

Brian gave him a polite nod. "Barney."

That's all that was needed.

As he strolled through the large warehouse the Gentry had converted to house their operations, Brian used the short walk to reflect on the gang itself. And somewhat on his own place within it.

Aside from the fact that none of the gangs in town had a shape changer or Stranger with the ability to look like one, no one really questioned the capes in the Gentry.

Sure, Seamstress was polite, Sable was respectful, and Jester was well mannered. But that left Faerie, known to have slit more throats than any of the grown men. Vizier, who'd made a group of ABB thugs commit mass suicide. Hunt Master, who was a known coke addict and prone to flaying people alive if they really pissed him off. And, to top it off, the Lady. Who tortured people, very publically, from time to time.

The bits of viscera on Brian's costume probably helped emphasize why he was largely considered the most effective brawler in the gang and one of the best fighters in the city.

And his power wasn't even directly combat related.

Before he knew, his reverie was broken by the angelic voice of his psychotic owner. Probably the person he hated third most on the planet.

"Ah, my gallant knight, you've returned to me!"

Still didn't mean he wouldn't drop trow and touch his toes if the queen bitch so much as hinted that's what she wanted. The two things, above all others, she had on him was the fact she made sure he got, and kept, custody of his sister. And, of course, that the Lady didn't touch Aisha. Brian had _zero_ interest in testing that situation. Not unless he was sure he could put her in the ground. But, seeing how many, far more dangerous, people had failed to do so, he was already talking himself out of his slowly developing plan.

"Yes'm."

Short and simple. Don't play along. Keep the conversation moving.

"'Sigh' Still a man of so few words." The forlorn tone and expression on the Lady's face dropped as quickly as they'd come. Replaced by a sultry grin and a sway in the hips.

"Of course, such a dedicated and loyal warrior, you did take down a dozen naughty, naughty Nazis all on your lonesome, deserves a reward."

With an iron will, Brian crushed the shudder of revulsion that almost shook through him.

"No thank you, mam."

There wasn't the slightest inflection in his tone. He was as cold and dry as bone.

"Ah. Always so chaste. You don't drink, you don't smoke….You don't even show that _gorgeous_ face of yours. Like a nubian adonis. Why must you deprive me so, my most devout of champions!? I'd give you anything you wanted, _be_ any _one_ you ever desired. I'd make you feel pleasures you couldn't imagine…."

Brian said nothing. The saccharine tone repulsed him. No matter how pouty she was, after what he'd seen that first night, Brian would never, _EVER,_ so much as consider her offer.

"Ah. C'est la vie, mon cher? Anyways. Enough of my fruitless attempts at seduction. It's time for business. Walk with me."

They moved through the cavernous space, dodging around pallets of drugs, crates of guns, bins filled with clothes and toys and food, and even a few hundred barrels of pickled pigs feet piled high in one corner of the store house. After his, admittedly short, stint in the gang, he didn't even question why they had half of what they had.

'It's better to keep your head down, do your job, and keep moving. Question get you answers, answers cost you sleep.'

Like many other gangs, the Gentry used massive toy or food drives to occasionally build their reputation. The Hells Angels, back before they got wiped out by the Elite, would buy a shit ton of bikes and donate them to charity. Brian knew that the Gentry did something similar for their 'peasants'. The families of informants and non powered were well cared for in the event of arrest or death.

Shaking his head, he tuned back into the Lady's voice. She having spent the last twenty minutes rambling about credits and debits and the rough amount of income his assigned territory was bringing in. He understood she was happy and that was enough for him.

'Happy means she doesn't look into my business."

"Yes ma'am. I'll make sure they keep producing."

Nodding to herself, the Lady stopped and turned around.

"Now, my dear Sable, I have a special quest for you. I've recently acquired a new doll. She's quite pretty. So I don't want to risk Hunt-Master touching her. But she needs to learn how to survive. Barney's already shown her how to shoot a gun, and we've got her practicing regularly, but I want you to teach her how to fight. Really, really fight! No one but me is allowed to break her! But, I suppose you can give her a few cracks….Hmm. Rough her up a bit, get her used to pain, but nothing I can't fix with a kiss, alright!"

Brian gave a slow nod.

"Yes ma'am."

He had questions, a hell of a lot, but he wasn't sure if the Lady was taking questions right now. Sometimes she got...annoyed when people 'spoke out of turn'. That usually meant getting the functions of every hole in your body rearranged.

"Now, she's not got any personal fighting powers. And I don't want her showing everybody what tricks she can do just yet! So don't worry about any of that. Just make sure you get her as used to street fighting as possible. Nothing fancy. Just dirty tricks. Oh, and maybe how to use a knife and maybe a nightstick. But you _are not_ allowed to show her _your_ 'knight-stick'! Not until you show it to me, at least." She giggled, the picture of innocence.

You're doing this for Aisha was his mantra. The Lady was pressing him back into a wall, her hand sliding towards his collar. She wasn't a rapist. But Brian didn't feel like spending the next six hours in a euphoric coma.

At the end of the day, one of _the_ most dangerous aspects of the Lady's power wasn't her ability to harm. Not directly, at least. It was the ability to give pleasure.

She called it 'the stick and the carrot'.

Why have to constantly make others feel pain when she could, with a single touch, send them spiralling into a paradisal world of euphoria that made literally every other drug in existence, even the Tinker made ones, _pale_ in comparison. He had seen it before when they recruited Hunt-Master. It was also how the Lady had gotten agents into the local police, the PRT, and even the FBI office down in Boston.

A single brush of her fingers and a man would become a spineless husk, enslaved by the chemical processes in his own body. No messing around with the brain, no mental alterations, and no traces either. Her touch didn't count as an active Master power, Trumps couldn't counter it after the fact. Throw in the fact you couldn't exactly screen for it, and you had an untraceable drug. The perfect crime.

Fortunately he was saved by the proverbial gong when one of the other thugs walked up, apologized, and stated there was emergency. Two of their men were bleeding out. The Lady sighed. Brian thanked god.

When he'd first joined the Gang, the Lady had taken him along to a meeting with their suppliers.

In a single room he'd seen a dozen men representing the most brutal and violent drug cartels in the Americas, and even men from the Golden Triangle, not that he'd known it at the time. However, he did recognize one the men. A brutal drug lord known for ritualistically sacrificing people to satan and eating their hearts.

The Lady had made the drug lord get on his hands and knees and lick her boots clean. He'd spent ten minutes working his tongue like a man worshipping his goddess. His reward had been a gentle caress along the cheek. When the man had begun to twitch and had soiled his pants seminal fluid, Brian could only stare in terror as, one by one, all the other powerful, dangerous drug lords had bowed to a fifteen year old girl and worshipped her.

Oh, she'd never done anything inherently sexual. Just touched them, said a few kind words. And they did whatever she wanted. They'd have killed each other or even themselves just for the barest touch of her hand.

And that is why Brian Laborn feared the Lady more than any skinhead or dragon.

They took your lives, she took _you_ mind, body, and soul.

 **Ending AN: Warhawk here. To clarify, and because I want to head of angry reviewers, Amy isn't using the mind control like she did on Victoria. It's straight up pleasure and addiction induction. She's used it on less than twenty people, and at least half of them are dead. She's been raised by Marquis and is very, very good at being a gang lord. And, no, the PRT is NOT aware that she can do this. Amy is, in universe, aware that if the scale of her powers were known she'd get a kill order. And she's gone to extreme lengths to avoid it.**

 **P.S. I'll edit this interlude when I can get around to it. I have police things I need to go do (I'm not in trouble, just need some paperwork and a copy of a report) that I expect will take several days to complete. I'll delete this when I get the editing done.**


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